Russian Women Poets of the Eighteenth and Early – A Bilingual Edition: Volume 30 (The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series) [Bilingual ed.] 0772721629, 9780772721624

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Russian Women Poets of the Eighteenth and Early Nineteenth Centuries A Bilingual Edition E d i t e d a nd tr a n s l ate d by

Amanda Ewington

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series, 30

RUSSIAN WOMEN POETS OF THE EIGHTEENTH AND EARLY NINETEENTH CENTURIES

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series, 30

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series

Se rie S edi to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Se rie S edi to r , e ng l i S h te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman

Previous Publications in the Series Madre María Rosa Journey of Five Capuchin Nuns Edited and translated by Sarah E. Owens Volume 1, 2009

Pernette du Guillet Complete Poems: A Bilingual Edition Edited by Karen Simroth James Translated by Marta Rijn Finch Volume 6, 2010

Giovan Battista Andreini Love in the Mirror: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Jon R. Snyder Volume 2, 2009

Antonia Pulci Saints’ Lives and Bible Stories for the Stage: A Bilingual Edition Edited by Elissa B. Weaver Translated by James Wyatt Cook Volume 7, 2010

Raymond de Sabanac and Simone Zanacchi Two Women of the Great Schism: The Revelations of Constance de Rabastens by Raymond de Sabanac and Life of the Blessed Ursulina of Parma by Simone Zanacchi Edited and translated by Renate Blumenfeld-Kosinski and Bruce L. Venarde Volume 3, 2010 Oliva Sabuco de Nantes Barrera The True Medicine Edited and translated by Gianna Pomata Volume 4, 2010 Louise-Geneviève Gillot de Sainctonge Dramatizing Dido, Circe, and Griselda Edited and translated by Janet Levarie Smarr Volume 5, 2010

Valeria Miani Celinda, A Tragedy: A Bilingual Edition Edited by Valeria Finucci Translated by Julia Kisacky Annotated by Valeria Finucci and Julia Kisacky Volume 8, 2010 Enchanted Eloquence: Fairy Tales by Seventeenth-Century French Women Writers Edited and translated by Lewis C. Seifert and Domna C. Stanton Volume 9, 2010 Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, Sophie, Electress of Hanover and Queen Sophie Charlotte of Prussia Leibniz and the Two Sophies: The Philosophical Correspondence Edited and translated by Lloyd Strickland Volume 10, 2011

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series

Se rie S ed i to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Se rie S ed i to r , e ng l i S h te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman

Previous Publications in the Series In Dialogue with the Other Voice in Sixteenth-Century Italy: Literary and Social Contexts for Women’s Writing Edited by Julie D. Campbell and Maria Galli Stampino Volume 11, 2011 Sister Giustina Niccolini The Chronicle of Le Murate Edited and translated by Saundra Weddle Volume 12, 2011 Liubov Krichevskaya No Good without Reward: Selected Writings: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Brian James Baer Volume 13, 2011 Elizabeth Cooke Hoby Russell The Writings of an English Sappho Edited by Patricia Phillippy With translations by Jaime Goodrich Volume 14, 2011 Lucrezia Marinella Exhortations to Women and to Others if They Please Edited and translated by Laura Benedetti Volume 15, 2012

Margherita Datini Letters to Francesco Datini Translated by Carolyn James and Antonio Pagliaro Volume 16, 2012 Delarivier Manley and Mary Pix English Women Staging Islam, 1696– 1707 Edited and introduced by Bernadette Andrea Volume 17, 2012 Cecilia Del Nacimiento Journeys of a Mystic Soul in Poetry and Prose Introduction and prose translations by Kevin Donnelly Poetry translations by Sandra Sider Volume 18, 2012 Lady Margaret Douglas and Others The Devonshire Manuscript: A Women’s Book of Courtly Poetry Edited and introduced by Elizabeth Heale Volume 19, 2012 Arcangela Tarabotti Letters Familiar and Formal Edited and translated by Meredith K. Ray and Lynn Lara Westwater Volume 20, 2012

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series

Se rie S edi to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Se rie S edi to r , e ng l i S h te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman

Previous Publications in the Series Pere Torrellas and Juan de Flores Three Spanish Querelle Texts: Grisel and Mirabella, The Slander against Women, and The Defense of Ladies against Slanderers: A Bilingual Edition and Study Edited and translated by Emily C. Francomano Volume 21, 2013

Sophia of Hanover Memoirs (1630–1680) Edited and translated by Sean Ward Volume 25, 2013

Barbara Torelli Benedetti Partenia, a Pastoral Play: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Lisa Sampson and Barbara Burgess-Van Aken Volume 22, 2013

Anne Killigrew “My Rare Wit Killing Sin”: Poems of a Restoration Courtier Edited by Margaret J. M. Ezell Volume 27, 2013

François Rousset, Jean Liebault, Jacques Guillemeau, Jacques Duval and Louis De Serres Pregnancy and Birth in Early Modern France: Treatises by Caring Physicians and Surgeons (1581–1625) Edited and translated by Valerie Worth-Stylianou Volume 23, 2013 Mary Astell The Christian Religion, as Professed by a Daughter of the Church of England Edited by Jacqueline Broad Volume 24, 2013

Katherine Austen Book M: A London Widow’s Life Writings Edited by Pamela S. Hammons Volume 26, 2013

Tullia d’Aragona and Others The Poems and Letters of Tullia d’Aragona and Others: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Julia L. Hairston Volume 28, 2014 Luisa de Carvajal y Mendoza The Life and Writings of Luisa de Carvajal y Mendoza Edited and translated by Anne J. Cruz Volume 29, 2014

Russian Women Poets of the Eighteenth and Early Nineteenth Centuries: A Bilingual Edition •

Edited and translated by AMANDA EWINGTON

Iter Inc. Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies Toronto 2014

Iter: Gateway to the Middle Ages and Renaissance Tel: 416/978–7074 Email: [email protected] Fax: 416/978–1668

Web: www.itergateway.org

Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies Victoria University in the University of Toronto Tel: 416/585–4465 Fax: 416/585–4430

Email: [email protected] Web: www.crrs.ca

© 2014 Iter Inc. & Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies All rights reserved. Printed in Canada. Iter and the Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies gratefully acknowledge the generous support of James E. Rabil, in memory of Scottie W. Rabil, toward the publication of this book. Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication Russian women poets of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries : a bilingual edition / edited and translated by Amanda Ewington. (The other voice in early modern Europe. The Toronto series ; 30) Includes bibliographical references and indexes. Issued in print and electronic formats. Poems in Russian with English translation on facing pages. ISBN 978-0-7727-2162-4 (pbk.).—ISBN 978-0-7727-2163-1 (pdf) 1. Russian poetry—Women authors. 2. Russian poetry—18th century. 3. Russian poetry— 19th century. 4. Russian poetry—Women authors—Translations into English. 5. Russian poetry—18th century—Translations into English. 6. Russian poetry—19th century— Translations into English. I. Ewington, Amanda, writer of introduction, translator, editor of compilation II. Victoria University (Toronto, Ont.). Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies III. Iter Inc IV. Series: Other voice in early modern Europe. Toronto series ; 30 PG3230.7.W65R88 2014

891.71’20809287



C2014-900935-6 C2014-900936-4

Cover illustration: Portrait of Aleksandra P. Struyskaya (1754–1840), 1772 (oil on canvas), Rokotov, Fedor Stepanovich (c. 1735–1808) / Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow, Russia / The Bridgeman Art Library BAL 66937. Cover design: Maureen Morin, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries. Typesetting and production: Iter Inc.

To my mother, Patricia Caplan Andrews





Contents Acknowledgments

xv

Introduction

1

Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Kniazhnina (1746–1797) Introduction Элегия Elegy

33 38 39

Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova (1737–1809) Introduction Станс Stanzas Молитва A Prayer Сонет Sonnet Стансы Stanzas

41 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova (1747–after 1817) Introduction 59 Михаилу Матвеевичу Хераскову 72 To Mikhail Matveevich Kheraskov 73 Полион, или просветившийся Нелюдим, Поема Polion, or The Misanthrope Enlightened; An Epic Poem От Сочинительницы Сея Поемы 78 From the Authoress of This Poem 79 Песнь первая 78 Canto One 79 Песнь вторая 90 Canto Two 91 Песнь третия 102 Canto Three 103 Песнь четвертая 116 Canto Four 117 ix

x Contents Песнь пятая Canto Five Ироиды Heroides Ироиды музам посвященныя Heroides Dedicated to the Muses Зеида к Леандру Zeida to Leander Дарий к Федиме Darius to Fedima Федима к Дарию Fedima to Darius Рогнеда к Владимиру Rogneda to Vladimir Промест к другу Promest to a Friend Офира к Медору Ophira to Medor Медор к Офире Medor to Ophira Ольфена к Мериону Ol’phena to Merion Клияда Kliada Весна Spring Чувство дружбы Friendship Ручей The Brook От сочинительницы “Ручья” ответ на ответ From the Authoress of “The Brook”: A Response to a Response Уединенные часы Solitary Hours Степная песнь Song of the Steppe К Анне Алекс. Турчаниновой

132 133

152 153 154 155 168 169 182 183 192 193 206 207 222 223 236 237 252 253 262 263 272 273 274 275 276 277 280 281 284 285 286 287 290

Contents xi To Anna Aleks. Turchaninova Мой семидесятый год My Seventieth Year Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova (1752–1803) Introduction Гопсода издатели Собеседника! To the Gentlemen Editors of the Sobesednik! Письмо китайца к татарскому мурзе, живущему по делам своим в Петербурге A Chinaman’s Letter to the Tatar Murza Residing in Petersburg on Business Стансы на учреждение Российской Академии Stanzas on the Founding of the Russian Academy

291 292 293 297 304 305 306 307 312 313

Maria Voinovna Zubova (1749?–1799) Introduction Я в пустыню удаляюсь I Am Leaving for the Wilds

319 322 323

Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina (dates unknown) and Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina (1778 or 1779–1841) Introduction Решение судьбы к В. А. Б. Fate’s Decision. To V. A. B. Чувства благодарности Gratitude Милонова печаль Milon’s Sorrow Невинная пастушкa The Innocent Shepherdess

327 330 331 332 333 334 335 336 337

Natalia Leont’evna Magnitskaia (dates unknown) and Aleksandra Leont’evna Magnitskaia (d. 1846) Introduction К бессмертному творцу “Россиады” To the Immortal Creator of The Rossiada К Бюсту М… М… Х… To the Bust of M. M. Kh.

341 344 345 344 345

xii Contents Maria Alekseevna Pospelova (1780–1805) Introduction Молитва A Prayer Уединение Solitude Майское утро May Morning Anna Aleksandrovna Turchaninova (dates unknown) Introduction Себе Эпитафия Self-Epitaph Ответ на неодобрение меланхолических чувствований в стихах Response to a Rejection of Melancholy Feelings in Poetry Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova (1766–18??) Introduction Стихи писанные в жестокой и опасной болезни Verses Written in a Cruel and Dangerous Illness Элегия на кончину любезной сестры Графини А. М. Ефимовской. 1798 года, окт. 29 дня Elegy on the Death of My Beloved Sister, Countess A. M. Efimovskaia, the 29th day of October, 1798 Эпитафия Epitaph Anna Sergeevna Zhukova (b.?–1799) Introduction Чувства матери Maternal Feelings Супругу моему, с которым я в разлуке To My Husband, From Whom I Am Separated Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova (dates unknown) Introduction Элегия на смерть супруга и болезни сестры

347 352 353 354 355 356 357 361 364 365 364 365 367 370 371 370 371 378 379 381 384 385 386 387 391 394

Contents xiii Elegy on the Death of My Husband and on My Sister’s Illness

395

Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina (dates unknown) Introduction Предисловие Preface К читателям To My Readers

403 406 407 406 407

Varvara Aleksandrovna Karaulova (1774–1842) Introduction Разговор матери с маленьким ее сыном A Mother’s Conversation with Her Little Son

415 418 419

Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina (1759–1833) and Maria Osipovna Moskvina (1765–1824) Introduction Эпитафия. Надежиньке, жившей только пять часов Epitaph. To Little Hope, Who Lived Only Five Hours Смертный одр The Deathbed К Машиньке трехлетней дитяти To Three-Year-Old Mashenka Эпиграмма Epigram Галлерея The Gallery

423 428 429 428 429 432 433 434 435 436 437

Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova (dates unknown) Introduction Предисловие Preface Упрек мущинам A Reproach to Men Ответ на послание к женщинам A Response to “An Epistle to Women”

441 444 445 446 447 448 449

Anna Petrovna Bunina (1774–1829) Introduction

455

xiv Contents Разговор между мною и женщинами Conversation between Me and the Women Notes Bibliography Index of Subjects Index of Names

460 461 469 489 505 511

Acknowledgments I dedicate this book to my mother, Patricia Caplan Andrews, for teaching me that women’s voices must be heard. I imagine the poets in this volume would have admired her example; she managed to raise a large family while working, writing, and campaigning for equality. This volume took the better part of a decade to complete. Teaching, tenure, and another book project stole my attention for months and even a year or two at a time. Throughout the process, Albert Rabil, the series editor for the Other Voice in Early Modern Europe, enthusiastically supported my work and patiently encouraged me to keep going. I can’t thank him enough. Several people generously gave of their time to read early versions of the translations, including Catherine O’Neil, Wendy Rosslyn, Ursula Stohler, and Marcus Levitt. Marcus went on to provide invaluable feedback on the translations and introductions, prompting me to undertake extensive revisions that greatly improved my work. In her role as discussant for a panel on women writers at the 2008 AAASS conference in Philadelphia, Gitta Hammarberg posed insightful questions that led me to revise the author introduction and notes for the Magnitskaia sisters. Joachim Klein kindly read and provided feedback on an early draft of the Sushkova introduction. My dear friend Natalia Iokhvidova helped me work through many difficult passages in the Russian; when I was stuck on a particulary archaic turn of phrase she never tired of discussing it until we arrived at a contemporary Russian equivalent from which I could begin to construct the English translation. In the final months before this book went to press, Maia Rigas swooped in to the rescue. She went far beyond the copyediting call of duty, making key suggestions for substantive revisions and insisting on greater clarity in the translations and notes. Any errors are of course mine alone. I would like to thank my home institution, Davidson College, for funding my research. I am also grateful to the libraries that welcomed me. Over the course of two trips to St. Petersburg I spent countless hours at the Russian National Library and the Library of the Academy of Sciences (BAN). Most recently, I was fortunate to access unpublished works by and about Ekaterina S. Urusova in the papers xv

xvi Acknowledgments of G. R. Derzhavin (Russian National Library) and the Archive of the Institute of Russian Literature (Pushkinskii dom-IRLI). Back in the States, I consulted eighteenth-century editions and scholarly works at Harvard University’s Houghton and Widener libraries. At Davidson College, Joe Gutekanst, a master of interlibrary loan, obtained numerous journal articles and poems for me on microfilm. Finally, I thank my husband, Craig, and my two sons, Angus and Louis. This project required considerable time away from them, whether overseas, holed up in my office, or tapping away on my computer when we were supposed to be on vacation. Your love and support have sustained me.

Introduction

No one has placed the female mind in chains. What law states that ladies should not write? Minerva is a woman; On Mount Helicon not a single man resides among the whole host of Muses. Write! You shall be no less beautiful for doing so… . —A. P. Sumarokov, 17611

The Russian Historical Context The inclusion of eighteenth-century Russian poets in a series dedicated to early modern Europe will necessarily raise eyebrows. First, there is the question of geography. Can Russia, whose landmass sprawls from the Baltic Sea to the shores of the Pacific Ocean, truly be considered part of Europe? And what of Russian culture? Can Russians claim the same basic cultural heritage as France, Germany, and Italy? After all, with roots in the Eastern Orthodox rather than Roman Catholic Church, Russia famously missed out on the Renaissance, the Reformation, and, many would claim, much of the European Enlightenment as well. Then, of course, there is the issue of timing. If the rubric “early modern” refers to the period from roughly 1300 to 1700, how can poets writing in the late 1700s and early 1800s qualify? The answers to these questions lie in Russia’s relatively late arrival on the European stage, a tardiness that generated an anxiety and an ambivalence toward the West that persist to this day.2 Prior to the reign of Peter the Great (1689–1725), Russia remained for most Europeans an exotic, barbaric land, part of an “Oriental and even mythological domain.”3 Although historians continue to debate whether the Westernization of Peter’s reign should be seen as continuity or abrupt revolution, all agree that with his reforms 1. Sumarokov, “Lisitsa i statuia,” 213, http://rvb.ru/18vek/sumarokov/01text/01versus/17p arables/101.htm. 2. For a useful introduction in English to the problem of Russia and the West, see Russia and Western Civilization. 3. Wolff, Inventing Eastern Europe, 10.

1

2 Introduction Russia at last moved to join Europe.4 But Russia had a lot of catching up to do. Consider that at the dawn of the early modern period in Europe, as European women first began to reject the misogynistic culture inherited from the ancients, the Roman Catholic Church, and the emerging humanist Renaissance, Russia still lay largely isolated from Western Europe with no established tradition of secular literature, art, or civic life. When European women first raised voices in protest against reigning male prejudice, as seen in the many volumes in the Other Voice in Early Modern Europe series, even powerful, wealthy men in Russia had yet to publish a book. Russian women would debut in print a good four centuries after their European counterparts. Still, this enormous chronological lag notwithstanding, there are good reasons for drawing Russian women into the European fold: like their Western European counterparts Russian women faced centuries of entrenched misogyny from their church, the Russian Orthodox Church. They too faced domestic, legal, and social institutions that deemed women subservient to men. And with Russia’s rapid Westernization in the eighteenth century, educated Russian women found themselves in positions analogous to those of European ladies, negotiating a place for themselves in the literary gatherings and journals of the capitals St. Petersburg and Moscow, moving slowly toward the expression of an “other voice” in response to male-dominated cultural discourses and institutions.5

The Misogynist Tradition in Russia Before Russia’s relatively late Christianization in 988, women held a place of respect and status in Russian culture related not only to their role as mothers and wives but also to the complex pantheon of local pagan worship, in which female goddesses played an important role. 4. For more on Peter the Great and the Westernization of Russia, see Hughes, Russia in the Age of Peter the Great; and Hughes, Peter the Great and the West. 5. Peter the Great founded St. Petersburg in 1703. Ten years later he declared his new city the capital of Russia, thus demoting ancient Moscow. Peter’s beloved new city maintained its status for over two centuries, until the Bolsheviks returned the capital to Moscow in 1918. Although Moscow remains the capital of the Russian Federation, the two cities are frequently referred to in the plural as “the capitals.”

Introduction 3 Indeed, images of fertile Mother Earth are central to Russian identity, and to this day some characterize Russia as a deeply matriarchal culture.6 With the advent of Christianization, the position of women in Russian society began a misogynistic trajectory analogous to that of women in Western Europe. Like the Roman Catholic Church, the Russian Orthodox Church excluded women from active service and sought to reinforce their subordination to men. Orthodoxy presented women either as sinful and polluted temptresses or as ideal “good women”—hardworking, obedient, pious, silent, and virtuous wives and mothers.7 As elsewhere, women in medieval Muscovy—whether merchant wives, serfs, or from elite boyar families—were bound by the common expectations and demands of marriage and children. The resulting absence of women from the public sphere led to exclusion from traditional histories of pre-Petrine Russia. More recent scholarship seeks to address that lacuna, arguing that upper-class women wielded considerable power within the domestic realm allotted to them.8 Behind the scenes, women exerted profound influence over important public decisions like marital alliances between noble families.9 This volume focuses on the elite because they were, throughout the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, the only women with access to basic instruction and, occasionally, to the European-style education that prepared them to try their hand at poetry. Despite the many parallels between the low status of European and Russian women, pre-Petrine Russian conditions were more restrictive in significant ways. As Nancy Kollmann notes, “Muscovite elite women never enjoyed the mobility, varied opportunities and personal development that their European counterparts possessed.”10 First, unlike Europe, Russia never had a tradition of convents that 6. On the high status of women in pre-Christian Russia, see McKenzie, “Women’s Image in Russian Medieval Literature,” 19. See also Hubbs, Mother Russia; and Pushkareva, “Women in the Medieval Russian Family of the Tenth through Fifteenth Centuries,” 29–43. 7. Engel, “Petrine Revolution,” in Engel, Women in Russia, 8–9. For more on the conflicting messages within Russian Orthodoxy on the subject of women, see Domstroi. 8. Worobec, “Accommodation and Resistance,” 17–28. 9. Domstroi, 29. See also Kollmann, “Seclusion of Elite Muscovite Women,” 179–86. 10. Kollmann, “Seclusion of Elite Muscovite Women,” 177.

4 Introduction served a secondary function as shelter for unmarriageable daughters. While convents and unofficial “female communities” did exist as an alternative to life in patriarchal society, they never developed as centers of intellectual engagement along the European model.11 Thus, in eighteenth-century Russia, convents did not offer a locus for nascent feminist dissent as they did in Europe.12 The practice among elite Russian families of cloistering women into separate quarters, the terem (lit., “chamber”), marks another significant departure from Western practice.13 The terem was long interpreted, especially by foreign visitors to Muscovy, as enslavement, yet another example of Muscovite “barbarism.” More recently, historians have moved beyond the notion of terem as symbol of female victimhood to reveal a complex social, financial, and spiritual center within the elite Russian household.14 Whether oppressive slavery or secret power base, the existence of the terem suggests that, prior to 1700, elite Russian women lived largely in the company of other women. They wore concealing clothing. They worshipped apart from men and took no part in public life at court.15 Then, with Peter’s Westernizing 11. See Domstroi, 17–19. See Engel, “Petrine Revolution,” 40, for a discussion of the unofficial female communities, or “obshchiny.” Although some Russian convents maintained libraries, there is no evidence that nuns were involved in any kind of copying or composition (McKenzie, “Women’s Image in Russian Medieval Literature,” 21). 12. Brenda Meehan notes that as part of the reforms granting the government increased power over the church in the eighteenth century, the number of women’s monasteries was reduced from 203 in 1762 to just 67 two years later. She then notes the appearance of over 220 unofficial “women’s communities” from 1764 to 1917, which brought with them an increased proportion of non-elite women choosing a life of monasticism. Although Meehan notes a higher-than-average literacy rate among women living in these communities, she does not suggest any literary production among their inhabitants. She does, however, argue for a certain feminist sensibility in these women’s decision to assert their own autonomy, even if they themselves would have “disclaimed any feminist goals.” Meehan, Holy Women of Russia, 11–15. 13. The seclusion of elite women into separate living quarters had at least one parallel in Europe, as it was practiced by Frankish society in the medieval period. Kollmann, “Seclusion of Elite Muscovite Women,” 173. 14. For the acclaimed study of royal Muscovite women that inaugurated this new approach to scholarship on the terem, see Thyrêt, Between God and Tsar. 15. See Kollmann, “Seclusion of Elite Muscovite Women,” 170–87.

Introduction 5 reforms (1689–1725) the doors to the terem were, in effect, blown open, and women were forced to emerge into the public sphere.

Russian Women and Peter the Great’s Westernization Peter the Great’s Westernization of Russia has been studied from every imaginable angle. Whether viewed in terms of continuity or revolution, all agree that he ushered in an age of unprecedented change in everything from his prized military arts and shipbuilding to architecture, religion, language, and basic structures of everyday life among the Russian nobility.16 The various reactions and assimilations of these new European ideas and customs by Russian men has long been a staple of scholarly discussion. Analogous studies of Petrine women, which have appeared only since the turn of the twenty-first century, raise important questions about women’s unusual predicament and their emergence from the terem as both instigating and reflecting major changes in politics at the Russian court.17 Imagine the puzzlement and anxiety of the Petrine-era noblewoman when forced out of the terem and into mixed-company entertainments. In one ear, she hears traditional Orthodox sermons about chastity and humility, while in the other she learns of new laws decreeing she must dance, wear revealing dresses, and make small talk with men.18 In a study of Petrine women’s sartorial transformation, Lindsey 16. The scholarship on Peter the Great is vast, but a solid introduction to the period can be found in general histories and edited volumes on Peter and his reforms: Cracraft, Peter the Great Transforms Russia; Hughes, Russia in the Age of Peter the Great; and Riasanovsky, Image of Peter the Great in Russian History and Thought. 17. Petrine women left no firsthand accounts of their reaction to Petrine cultural reforms, so historians must glean insights from “women’s fashion, court rituals, portraiture, lubki, inventories of dowry agreements.” Marrese, “Women and Westernization in Petrine Russia,” 1: 111. For more on Petrine women, see Hughes, Russia in the Age of Peter the Great, 193–202, as well as her two articles on the subject, “From Caftans into Corsets,” and “ ‘The Crown of Maidenly Honour and Virtue.’ ” 18. For an example of such eighteenth-century sermons on women, see “On Chastity,” in Russian Women, 1698–1917, 21–22. Hughes discusses the conflicting messages for men and women in the Petrine behavior manual The Honorable Mirror for Youth in “Redefining Femininity,” 45. For an English translation, see Kollmann, “Etiquette for Peter’s Time,” 63– 84. See also Engel, “Petrine Revolution.”

6 Introduction Hughes helps contemporary readers appreciate the shock experienced by women newly released from the terem: The Petrine reforms demanded of all urban women significant cultural and psychological reorientation away from old Muscovite values. This included the baring of bosoms, arms, and heads, which had once been chastely concealed, and drinking and dancing with men in public. It is rather like well-brought-up Victorian ladies being forced to don short skirts or devout Muslim women being robbed of their veils and required to drink quantities of neat spirits.19 Nor was this transformation limited to the elite. In 1700 all Russians, with the exception of clergy and peasants who worked the fields, were required to adopt Western dress.20 As evidenced from the Petrine behavior manual The Honorable Mirror of Youth, codes of conduct for young men had changed drastically since the pre-Petrine era, while expectations for women, decrees on low necklines and dancing notwithstanding, had changed little. Women were still expected to remain chaste, pious, and silent.21

Female Rule: The Age of Empresses Despite the absence of women from public life before the reign of Peter the Great, the Russian eighteenth century emerged as the age of empresses. Women occupied the throne with only brief interruptions from Peter’s death in 1725 until the death of Catherine the Great in 19. Hughes, “From Caftans to Corsets,” 28. For Westernization of women as a brand of “state service,” see Hughes, Russia in the Age of Peter the Great, 202. 20. Hughes, “Redefining Femininity,” 36. 21. A comparison of the sixteenth-century behavior model, The Domostroi, to the eighteenthcentury text Honorable Mirror of Youth is quite revealing in this regard. See Domstroi; and Kollman, “Etiquette for Peter’s Time.” Hughes and Marrese argue that the apparent “emancipation” of Petrine women was illusory—that new clothes and behaviors merely masked the persistence of traditional attitudes and laws about women. See Marrese, “Women and Westernization,” 111.

Introduction 7 1796.22 Tempting as it might be to imagine Russian empresses adopting the role of Maecenas toward their poet-sisters, there is little to suggest such broad encouragement of women writers per se.23 Catherine the Great worked to increase literacy among young noble girls, but her efforts aimed at forming women into proper wives and mothers, not at drawing them into the public sphere.24 Of course, Catherine herself was a prolific writer, but there is nothing to suggest that she either inspired or encouraged women to follow her lead.25 Catherine could hardly serve as role model for the average noblewoman, because she was not an ordinary woman. As monarch, she could certainly exploit her feminine role as mother or gentle protectress when it served her, but like so many female monarchs before her, Catherine cultivated her image as an Amazon warrior, courting praise for her “masculine” turn of mind and martial demeanor. Like the early nineteenth-century poet Anna P. Bunina, who distanced herself from women in part to sidestep marginalization as a “female”

22. In Scenarios of Power Richard Wortman casts a rather gentle light on the problem: “It is no accident that women rulers proved able to fuse the personae of conquering and conserving monarchs, for only they could claim to defend Peter’s heritage without threatening a return of his punitive fury.” He further notes that “empresses served as exemplars of both cathartic force and disarming mildness and love, reflecting a classical conception of the identity of the sexes and sexual ambiguity.” Wortman, Scenarios of Power, 85–86. For a more detailed discussion, see Meehan-Waters, “Catherine the Great and the Problem of Female Rule”; Alexander, “Favourites, Favouritism, and Female Rule in Russia, 1725–1796,” idem, “Amazon Autocratrixes”; and Marker, Imperial Saint. 23. For example, Göpfert’s title notwithstanding, he makes no connection between Catherine and the women who took up the pen during her reign: Göpfert, “Catherine II et les femmesécrivains de son temps.” 24. With the notable exception of appointing her erstwhile friend, Princess Dashkova, to head the Russian Academy, Catherine made no grand gestures to bring women into Russian letters. This is not to say that women never benefited from her patronage. The poet Maria Sushkova, who was the sister of her secretary, A. V. Khrapovitskii, did come to Catherine’s attention, but Catherine did not single out women, as a group, for patronage. For Catherine’s intentions for female education, see Nash, “Educating New Mothers.” 25. For more on the subject, see Catherine II, Memoirs of Catherine the Great; Madariaga, Russia in the Age of Catherine the Great; Dashkova, Memoirs of Princess Dashkova; and a forthcoming volume in this series, an anthology of works by Catherine the Great to be edited and translated by Marcus Levitt.

8 Introduction writer, perhaps Catherine avoided offering patronage to women to deter unwelcome attention to her gender.26 As background for the many poems in this volume that were composed during Catherine’s reign, we should bear in mind that her more than three decades in power were notable less for her gender than for her ceaseless efforts to foster education, the arts, and Enlightenment values.27 Nonetheless, as early as 1773 her ideals were tested by the massive uprising known as the Pugachev Rebellion.28 A decade later, in the years leading up to and immediately following the French Revolution of 1789, Catherine felt increasingly ill at ease with events in Europe and moved to crack down on political dissent.29 In what Isabel de Madariaga calls “the first really serious case of intellectual persecution” in Catherine’s reign, the writer and intellectual Aleksandr N. Radishchev was arrested for his 1790 Journey from St. Petersburg to Moscow (Puteshestvie iz Peterburga v Moskvu), which was interpreted as an exposé on the evils of serfdom. Originally sentenced to be executed, he was instead sent to exile in Siberia.30 The 26. Catherine’s inattention to Russian women was another aspect of her general neglect of native Russian artists and poets. One of the most renowned male writers of her day, A. P. Sumarokov, lamented her lack of support for Russian writers and actors in favor of foreigners. 27. Viktor Zhivov argues that Catherine managed to transplant the European Enlightenment in Russia in such a way that it bolstered rather than threatened her power. Zhivov, “Gosudarstvennyi mif v epokhu prosveshcheniia,” 149–59. 28. The Pugachev rebellion, or Pugachevshchina, was led by the Cossack Emelian Ivanovich Pugachev, who claimed to be Peter III, Catherine’s husband, who was murdered as part of the palace coup that brought her to power. There is great disparity in estimates about the number of people actively involved in the revolt, with estimates ranging from as little as 20,000 all the way up to three million participants. Whatever the case, Madariaga notes that “no other eighteenth- or nineteenth-century popular revolt attained such dimensions anywhere else in Europe.” Madariaga, Catherine the Great, 64. The rebellion was eventually put down when Pugachev was captured in 1774. He was then executed in 1775 in Moscow. 29. For more on Catherine’s reaction to the French Revolution, see Madariaga, Catherine the Great, 189–202. 30. Madariaga, Catherine the Great, 191. Radishchev remained in Siberia until just after Catherine’s death, when her son Paul came to power and assiduously sought to undo as much of his mother’s work as possible. Only with the ascension of Alexander I was Radishchev allowed back to St. Petersburg itself. He was invited to participate in a commission on drafting new laws, but his dissatisfaction with his ability to effect change apparently

Introduction 9 arrest of Nikolai I. Novikov, whose myriad publishing activities supported many eighteenth-century Russian writers, stands as another case in point. Previously, Catherine had polemicized with Novikov intensely but cordially on the pages of her journal All Sorts and Sundries (Vsiakaia viashchina). Then, beginning in the 1780s, she lost patience with his promotion of Freemasonry and finally, in 1792, had him arrested and imprisoned.31 Given the significant cultural, political, and military challenges of Catherine’s reign, it is perhaps unsurprising that she devoted little attention to the status of women writers. Yes, she herself was a writer and yes, she appointed her confidante Princess Dashkova to lead the Russian Academy. Still, Catherine as patron or as a woman writer herself seems to have had no direct effect on the poets whose work appears in this volume. Their poems should be read not with an eye to Catherine, but to the developing philosophical and aesthetic movements of Catherine’s era. Panegyric poetry extolling Russian enlightenment, such as Sushkova’s “Stanzas on the Founding of the Russian Academy,” supports the monarch’s efforts, prior to the French Revolution, to depict Russia as a modern European nation; the very incarnation of Enlightenment values. Few writers, men or women, openly challenged that idealized image, and those that did, like Novikov or Radishchev, were severely punished. Still, the new popularity of Sentimental lyrics in the 1780s and 1790s, at a time when the Russian state witnessed the unintended consequences of Enlightenment philosophy in Europe, stands as a reminder that larger political questions had become not only unfashionable, but unthinkable. That shift in attention largely reflects the rise of Sentimentalism exacerbated his depression and led to his suicide in 1802. Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Radishchev, Aleksandr Nikolaevich,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default. aspx?tabid=10376. 31. As Lurana O’Malley points out, although Western and Soviet scholars long depicted Novikov as a sort of political and literary martyr—“a heroic figure fighting against Catherine’s tyrannical censorship”—he in fact enjoyed many years of support from the empress. O’Malley, Dramatic Works of Catherine the Great, 75. It was only later, when he increasingly devoted himself to promulgating Masonic ideals (which some suspected were linked to revolution) that Catherine began to crack down. For a detailed overview of Novikov’s life and career, see Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Novikov, Nikolai Ivanovich,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=962.

10 Introduction across Europe and the increasing focus on the lyric persona in poetry. At the same time, this new silence about Russia’s political stature might suggest that what had once seemed liberating and modern now appeared dangerous and rash.

The Other Voice in Russia: Women in the Context of Russia’s Nascent Literary Culture Explicit protest against the patriarchal culture of domestic life, literary institutions, and the church did not appear in Russia until the turn of the nineteenth century. This postdates the “other voice” that arose in Western Europe by five hundred years, but it follows the emergence of modern Russian literature by mere decades.32 Peter the Great’s celebrated program of Westernization notwithstanding, the promotion of literature simply was not on his agenda.33 Rather than fine arts or belles lettres, Peter worked to transform everyday life (dress, manners, social customs) and reform military and government institutions. Thus, as French writers already lamented their lost golden age, represented by the mighty dramatists Racine and Molière, Russians had barely begun to contemplate a literary culture in 1725, the year of Peter’s death. While Petrine Russia could not claim a world-class literature among its achievements, it could claim influence over the subsequent generation, which was moved by the mythology of a magnificent “new Russia” that they extolled and wished to serve.34 The Petrine era also bequeathed a more tangible legacy in the linguistic reforms that paved the way for the modern literary language, as noted by Marcus Levitt: “In the eighteenth century, Russia created a new vernacular Russian literary language, the primary vehicle of Russia’s modernization and 32. For an introduction to eighteenth-century Russian literature in Russian, see the classic work by Gukovskii, Russkaia literatura XVIII veka; and a recent study, Klein, Russkaia literatura v XVIII veke. For general introductions in English, see Serman, “Eighteenth Century”; and Brown, History of Eighteenth-Century Russian Literature. 33. See Klein, Russkaia literatura v XVIII veke, 26–28. For more detail on linguistic reforms and politics under Peter the Great, see Zhivov, Iazik i kul’tura v Rossii XVIII veka, 69–154. Zhivov’s book was recently published in an English translation: Language and Culture in Eighteenth-Century Russia. 34. Reyfman, Vasilii Trediakovsky, 16. For more on the inspiring mythology of Petrine Russia, see Baehr, Paradise Myth in Eighteenth-Century Russia.

Introduction 11 entry into the Western European cultural sphere that also made possible her extraordinary literary outpouring of creativity in the following century.”35 The eighteenth-century Russian writer wrote in a period of intense literary and linguistic experimentation. If the women poets represented here occasionally struggle with orthography, grammar, punctuation, meter, rhyme, or le mot juste, then one should recall that their male colleagues confronted similar challenges and struggles. Their differences during these early years, I would argue, revolve around the issue of authority. Like so much else in modern Russian culture, literature did not evolve gradually or organically, but rather self-consciously and from above. Building a modern secular literature became a national project, with the three “founding fathers”—M. V. Lomonosov, V. K. Trediakovsky, and A. P. Sumarokov—battling for influence over the development of the literary language and Russian adaptations of established European genres. The concern with genre reflects prevailing European literary trends adopted by Russia as a foundation for its own modern literature. The Russian tradition began in the 1730s–1750s with a heavy debt to French neoclassicism and its hierarchy of poetic genres and corresponding “styles,” themselves adapted from Aristotle’s Poetics by way of Boileau’s L’art poétique (1674). Following their European counterparts, Russian writers placed epic, tragedy, and ode at the top of this hierarchy and argued bitterly among themselves as to the appropriate corresponding linguistic styles for the Russian context. High genres not only dictated strict rules for style and structure (such as Aristotle’s famous dictum requiring unity of time and plot for tragedy), but also for characters; only great heroes or royalty were worthy of attention. Middle genres included lyric poetry, including the many pastoral genres represented in this volume, and demanded a corresponding refined conversational language, which Russians developed in the 1790s–1810s. At the bottom of the hierarchy stood low genres, including comedies, with their corresponding low-style (colloquialisms and vulgarity) and low-status characters.36 35. Zhivov, Language and Culture in Eighteenth-Century Russia, v. 36. It should be noted that Lomonosov’s initial delineation of genres and styles grouped elegies among the high style, and demanded that vulgarity be omitted from literary language

12 Introduction By the time Russia began to develop a national literature on the foundation of the neoclassical hierarchy of genres, such strict delineations were already on the way out in Europe. Indeed, during the second half of the eighteenth century, when Russians were hotly debating rules for genre and style, the great philosophes (with the notable exception of Voltaire) increasingly abandoned such concerns. In France and beyond, the age of the epic and tragedy was eclipsed by the rise of the novel, a literary phenomenon absent from the traditional hierarchy and considered a scandalous waste of time by many. It was not long before Russia followed suit. By the late 1790s, Russia had “caught up” with Europe in its fervor for Sentimental novels, tales, and other “tearful” and tender texts. The first two decades of the nineteenth century saw a further break down of the genre hierarchy in Russia.37 The poems in this volume reflect this era of rapidly changing literary tides and women’s status as writers. High style genres were implicitly, if not explicitly, off-limits; only Urusova attempted to frame her work as epic or tragic. Low-style comedy was similarly taboo, as it would be unseemly for women to produce bawdy humor. It should thus come as no surprise that almost all the poems in this volume fall within the “safe” lyric middle genres. As Irina Reyfman notes in her study of Trediakovsky, “the task of creating the ‘new’ Russian literature burdened eighteenth-century authors with an enormous responsibility. They believed everything they created had the status of a model and thus would determine the future of Russian literature.”38 To be sure, pioneering poets like Trediakovsky and Sumarokov felt keenly that burden of setting precedent. During the heated polemic of the 1740s–1750s, the three founders and their acolytes shouted at one another in print, indulging in intense ad hominem attacks as they vied for status. Each wished to go down in history as the “father” of Russian literature.39 Women, altogether. For a brief overview in English of the hierarchy of genres and styles in eighteenthcentury Russia, see Jones, “Russian Literature in the Eighteenth Century” 29–30. 37. Rayfield, “Golden Age of Russian Poetry,” 90–92. 38. Reyfman, Vasilii Trediakovsky, 17. 39. The polemic involving Trediakovsky, Lomonosov, and Sumarokov has generated numerous articles and books. For a discussion in English, see Reyfman, Vasilii Trediakovsky; and Ewington, A Voltaire for Russia, 13–18.

Introduction 13 it should be noted, were completely absent from these acrimonious debates about language, genre, and authority. In those pioneering decades, no woman ever claimed to establish a genre or argued for her authority on literary matters. On the contrary, on the rare occasion that a woman in the 1750s–1770s addressed her right to wield a pen, it was to minimize her own authority with the kind of modesty topoi seen in male writers only much later, during the period of Sentimentalism that reigned in the 1770s–1790s.40 Russian women writers simply did not participate in the frenzied land grab for genre and authority but instead quietly navigated the generic and linguistic models being set by men. They worked within these evolving male-defined genres, all the while trying to determine appropriately “feminine” language and themes, and that, too, with generous male guidance. Although women staked no claim to authority, they were welcomed relatively eagerly and early into the literary realm—but welcomed by whom and on what terms? As in Western Europe, Russian women required male patronage and approbation to write. As Bunina, addressing her female readers, quipped at the dawn of the nineteenth century, … You’re no lower than they. But, ah! ’Tis men, not you, preside among the judges. For an author’s laurels And authorial glory are in their hands.41 Perhaps not surprisingly, the first woman to publish under her own name, Ekaterina A. Kniazhnina, enjoyed connections that included her father, Sumarokov, and her husband, the established playwright Iakov B. Kniazhnin.42 Her elegy, which begins “O you who always 40. The early modesty topoi of the type employed by Urusova is a topic awaiting investigation, but for the sincerity of women’s modesty topoi during the era of Sentimentalism, see Andrew, “Crocodile in Flannel or a Dancing Monkey,” 58. 41. See Bunina’s poem “Conversation between Me and the Women” in this volume. 42. For more on Kniazhnin and his wife, the poet Ekaterina Kniazhnina, see the individual introduction to her in this volume. To contextualize Kniazhnin’s fame as a playwright, it is worth briefly tracing the early history of modern Russian theater, which follows the

14 Introduction loved me,” appeared in her father’s journal, the Industrious Bee, in 1759. This pattern of women poets as well-connected relatives continued with the majority of poets represented in this volume, including Elizaveta V. Kheraskova (wife of the famous poet and publisher M. M. Kheraskov); Ekaterina S. Urusova (Kheraskov’s cousin); Maria V. Sushkova (sister of A V. Khrapovistkii, a poet and influential secretary to Catherine II); Natalia L. and Aleksandra L. Magnitskaia (sisters of the poet Mikhail L. Magnitskii); Elizaveta M. Dolgorukova (sister to the poet Ivan M. Dolgorukov); Anna S. Zhukova and Elizaveta S. Neelova (wife and sister-in-law, respectively, of the poet Vasilii Zhukov); Varvara A. Karaulova (daughter-in-law of the Kniazhnins); and Bunina (aunt of Boris K. Blank, an influential member of Nikolai M. Karamzin’s literary circle). A few others (Maria A. Pospelova, Maria P. Bolotnikova, sisters Ekaterina P. and Anastasia P. Svin’ina, and sisters Elizaveta O. and Maria O. Moskvina) could boast no such useful family ties but nonetheless managed to secure the patronage of

same trajectory as that of modern Russian letters more broadly. In his own time and today Kniazhnina’s father, A. P. Sumarokov, was acknowledged as the father of the Russian theater. He composed the first secular Russian play, Khorev (1747) and his dramatic oeuvre eventually comprised over twenty works for the stage. As with Russian poetry, theatrical writing began with adaptations from neoclassical French and German tragedies, frequently reworked to a Russian setting. By the 1760s Sentimentalist trends were already disrupting this new “tradition.” Sumarokov soon outlived his own glory, witnessing the rise of “bourgeois dramas” and “tearful comedies.” Just as the late eighteenth century witnessed the break down of genres in poetry, so in theater too the separation of high/low and comic/ tragic was being erased. Amidst these cultural shifts, Kniazhnin’s best known plays, the historical tragedies Rosslav (1784) and Vadim of Novgorod (Vadim Novogordoskii) (1789) were something of a throwback to his father-in law’s style. The latter appeared only posthumously in 1793. Somehow slipping by the censors in this anxious time following the French Revolution, the play was discovered by Catherine II and immediately banned. As far as his comedies were concerned, Kniazhnin is best known for the 1779 comic-opera Misfortune from a Coach (Neschastie ot karety), which condemned the mistreatment of serfs. For a detailed discussion of Sumarokov’s contribution to the Russian theater, see my A Voltaire for Russia. Lamentably few introductions to eighteenth-century Russian theater have appeared in English: Leach and Borovsky, History of Russian Theatre; and Karlinsky, Russian Drama from Its Beginnings to the Age of Pushkin. For a more focused overview, see Wirtschafter, Play of Ideas in Russian Enlightenment Theater.

Introduction 15 the famous Sentimentalist writer, publisher, and historian Karamzin or his literary confrères Blank and Vasilii S. Podshivalov.43 Thanks to supportive family, Russian women, unlike their Western European counterparts, began writing and publishing poetry at roughly the same time as their male compatriots. Of course, their poems did not appear in nearly the same numbers as those by men, but they did appear and, more often than not, in the very same journals and following the same conventions regarding genre, meter, style, and authorship. Still, these women quietly negotiated their own presence, if not yet their own voice, in their texts.44 Like European women writers, Russian women attempted various entries to public authorship: translating, rather than creating original texts;45 masking gender with a masculine lyric persona; publishing anonymously; hiding behind pseudonyms or cryptograms; and occasionally subverting expectations within acceptably “feminine” roles. To be sure, this progression was neither uniform nor linear. Not all women adopted all tactics, nor did any one approach belong to a single time period. Still, a basic pattern can be discerned. During the fifty years from 1750 to 1800, when Russian literature itself was in its infancy, most women poets challenged patriarchal institutions and perceptions subtly, if at all. Then, at the threshold of the nineteenth century, when Russia at last “caught up” with Europe and when the so-called “feminization of Russian literature,” wrought by Sentimentalism, was at its height, women’s poetry was marked by an emotional intimacy and specificity that surpassed the conventional “tearful” literature of male Sentimentalist writers.46 Finally, at the turn of the century, a handful 43. The impact of mentors on specific poets will be discussed in the introductions to each author. For an overview of the vagaries of male patronage, see Rosslyn, “Making Their Way into Print,” 416–17. 44. Rosslyn meticulously details eighteenth-century Russian women writers’ arrival into print, noting their combination of “apparent submission with covert subversion.” Rosslyn, “Making Their Way into Print,” 407–38. 45. With the exception of Karaulova’s adaptation of Berquin’s “Plaintes d’une mère auprès du berceau de son fils,” Russian translations of poems will not be covered in this volume. For more about the context and history of translation among eighteenth-century Russian women, see Rosslyn, Feats of Agreeable Usefulness. 46. I borrow the phrase from the seminal article by Vowles, “ ‘Feminization’ of Russian Literature.”

16 Introduction of women called forth with a clear other voice, demanding that men shed long-held prejudices and consider women their spiritual and intellectual equals under the laws of church and state as well as in the drawing rooms of Moscow and St. Petersburg. In comparison to Western Europe, a clear and unmistakable other voice cries out in Russia only belatedly. Yet as has been discussed, this delayed emergence was to a great extent the result of the relatively late rise of modern Russian letters more generally. A secular literary culture developed in Russia only in the mid-eighteenth century. Fundamental debates about the literary language and versification began in the 1730s, while the first literary journal appeared in 1755. Within the context of this late entry by Russian men into the literary arena, the development of the other voice by Russian women appears quite rapid. Just a few decades after newly educated elite men began publishing, Russian women followed with challenges to male prejudice that were at first subtle, but within just a few decades, quite pointed and specific.47

47. The disparaging term zhenskaia poezia (women’s poetry) lives on in Russia. Although Russia can claim many great women poets, including Evdokiia Rostopchina and Karolina Pavlova in the nineteenth century, and Anna Akhmatova and Marina Tsvetaeva in the twentieth, it never developed a tradition of feminist solidarity among writers. Western critics shake their heads in despair and frustration at the Russian refusal to adopt their brand of feminism. In 1987 Barbara Heldt laments that “the methods and insights of feminist literary criticism that have evolved in the past decade in the West could be of great value in redefining Russian literature as a series of texts involving gender-based values” but that “Russian feminist criticism is almost nonexistent.” Heldt, Terrible Perfection, 5. This aversion to Western-style feminist discourse may be explained partially as a reaction against Soviet-era rhetoric. Celebrating women’s emancipation with great fanfare, the Soviet regime pushed women into the workplace, while doing little to alter fundamental sexist attitudes about their role at home, thus leading to the notorious “double burden.” In her review of du Plessix Gray’s Soviet Women: Walking the Tightrope, the Russian writer Tatyana Tolstaya sums up Russian hostility toward Western feminism: “In bewilderment they ask themselves: What do we need this ridiculous feminism for anyway? In order to do the work of two people? So men can lie on the sofa?” See Tolstaya’s “Women’s Lives,” in Pushkin’s Children, 2–3. This persistent distrust of feminism may have roots as far back as the mixed messages of Sentimentalism and Russia’s centuries-long isolation from the West.

Introduction 17

Genre in Early Modern Russian Literature Implicit in the discussion above of poets’ efforts to adapt European models to the Russian context is an understanding of the importance of genre in Russia’s developing literary canon. If in Europe Rousseau was already making a splash with the novel, a genre unrecognized in the classical hierarchy, in Russia authors continued to proceed in accordance with established genres, however hazily conceived and defended.48 Indeed, Joachim Klein notes in his monograph on the period that “genre remained for a long time the aesthetic category which most determined the creation of an artistic work as well as its reception.”49 With this centrality of genre in mind, the author introductions in this volume will review the meter, rhyme, and poetic genre for each poem. Still, a brief overview may prove useful. By the time Sumarokov’s daughter, Kniazhnina, opened the doors to women poets in 1759, debates about the basic foundations of Russian poetry had receded. No longer was anyone championing the syllabic verse that briefly held sway in the 1720s and 1730s.50 Now all Russian poetry, regardless of genre, was composed according to the 48. For Sumarokov’s attitude toward genre and taste, see Ewington, A Voltaire for Russia, 28– 73. Sumarokov, following his mentor Voltaire, vehemently rejected the genre of the novel (41). For Rousseau’s contemporary reception in Russia, see Barran, Russia Reads Rousseau, 1762–1825, 3–184. 49. Klein, Russkaia literatura v XVIII veke, 14. 50. For a good introduction to the basic chronology and principles of Russian syllabic verse, see Scherr, Russian Poetry, 33–39; or Wachtel, Cambridge Introduction to Russian Poetry, 17–18. Beginning with Antiokh D. Kantemir, modern Russian poetry adapted Poland’s tradition of syllabic verse, which relied on three basic principles: a thirteen-syllable line; couplets of feminine rhyme (penultimate syllable stressed); and a caesura (word break) after the seventh or eighth syllable. The newly established tradition of syllabic poetry was quickly eclipsed in Russia by syllabotonic verse, introduced by Lomonosov by way of Germany. Unlike syllabic verse, which is grounded in the number of syllables per line, syllabotonic verse follows metrical “feet,” which proceed according to patterns of accented (stressed) and unaccented (unstressed) syllables. As Wachtel (Cambridge Introduction to Russian Poetry, 18) notes, there are five possible patterns or “feet” of syllabotonic verse: the binary meters (iambic and trochaic) and ternary meters (dactylic, amphibrachic, and anapestic). Russian syllabotonic verse initially favored six-syllable trochaic lines, which mimicked French hexameters (“Alexandrine”) but soon shifted toward iambic verse, with iambic tetrameter dominating for most of Russian literary history.

18 Introduction syllabotonic system, with various canonical meters and stanzaic structures signaling adherence to one or another genre.51 Russian women almost always confined themselves to the “light,” middle genres associated with pastoral verse, sonnets, and elegies, while largely steering clear of high-style genres, which included the triumphant ode, the epic, and tragedy. Within these accepted poetic forms women writers generally cast themselves as the “young unmarried woman; female friend; devout soul; sensitive observer of nature; mother; sorrowing widow; and sister, aunt, or godmother.”52 At a time when Russian men occasionally amused themselves with pornographic poetry and bawdy eclogues and demanded praise for their passionate tragedies, women, with the notable exception of Urusova’s Heroides, depicted even romantic love as sweetly innocent.53 Regarding the ubiquitous theme of love in eighteenth-century poetry, women poets most often address not lovers, but God, children, absent husbands, and departed sisters. By the 1790s many of these poems were unusually personal and confessional, but earlier women’s poems were largely indistinguishable from those of men, steeped as they were in didactic, abstract, and universal themes associated with European neoclassicism. Readers familiar with the European literary canon will immediately recognize in the poetry in this volume a predilection for pastoral genres and motifs among women. Shepherds, nymphs, and zephyrs abound. But whereas European pastoral poetry functioned as part of a developed salon culture and was often allegorically linked to specific individuals (much like a roman à clef), it has been argued that Russia had no salon culture and that therefore the pastoral began primarily as a laboratory for linguistic experimentation.54 Yet it was precisely the pastoral genres’ thematic focus on love and virtue, more than the opportunity to experiment with form, that appealed to Russian women. As middle genres, idylls and eclogues did not require the authority 51. Scherr (Russian Poetry, 40–42) also reviews the development of syllabo-tonic poetry in Russia. 52. Rosslyn, “Making Their Way into Print,” 422. 53. See Schruba, “Porn in the Age of Enlightenment/‘Porno’ v epokhu prosveshcheniia.” In that same volume, see also Levitt, “Barkoviana and Russian Classicism.” 54. See Klein, “Pastoral’naia poeziia russkogo klassitsizma.” For the absence of a salon culture in eighteenth-century Russia, see Klein, Russkaia literatura, 289.

Introduction 19 of the epic or tragedy nor the risky, ribald humor of low comedy. As in Europe, Russian pastoral poetry was situated in the requisite locus amoenus, an idealized world of gentle meadow or forest where shepherds and shepherdesses, who bore no resemblance to actual Russian peasants, toiled in harmony and peace. Yet despite this highly stylized landscape, some women poets pushed the boundaries of the pastoral. For example, as I will discuss in detail below, Urusova sets her fivecanto poem Polion, or The Misanthrope Enlightened in a recognizably pastoral setting yet expands the form well beyond the usually brief love idyll and the message beyond a traditional concern with sentimental affection. Similarly, Anastasia P. Svin’ina subtly subverts the centrality of love in her short poem “The Innocent Shepherdess,” suggesting the shepherdess can do without romance and thus claims the landscape for herself. Pastoral genres were “safe” for women because they demanded no personal revelation, which would have been deemed unseemly. The epigram and epitaph, on the other hand, although middle genres, were less commonly taken up among women, perhaps, as Wendy Rosslyn suggests, because they demanded personal specificity and even autobiography.55 Women did compose in these genres, if not prolifically. At times they followed their male mentors and at others deviated slightly from established models. Sumarokov, as is so often the case, established the basic contours. Gukovskii notes in his classic study of the period that Sumarokov’s epigrams conformed to French tradition: They address a specific person and offer “short novellas in a few lines or rhymed anecdotes, or simply the poet’s witty remarks on the themes of life … Sumarokov’s epigrams were humorous caricatures of everyday life.”56 But what right had women to comment on “everyday life,” which, it goes without saying, meant a life deemed worthy of commentary—a man’s life. Moreover, could a woman poke fun? The only epigram in this volume, written by one of the Moskvina sisters, follows Sumarokov’s lead but specifically targets women’s domestic life—a silly spat between female friends, which she ironically likens to a duel. That sort of playful, satirical edge is largely missing from this volume, and one cannot help wondering how many 55. Rosslyn, “Making Their Way into Print,” 425. 56. Gukovskii, Russkaia literatura XVIII veka, 148.

20 Introduction published epigrams of the period might have been penned by women but attributed anonymously or pseudonymously. Unlike the satirical epigram, the genre of the epitaph offered a voice more in keeping with women’s traditional roles of mother and tender sister. The epitaph follows no specific metrical pattern or stanzaic structure but consistently expresses memento mori in a brief poem of one or two stanzas in length. The genre appeared in Russia in the 1660s, almost a century before the development of a Westernized, secular literature, with epitaphs by Simeon Polotskii and other distinguished churchmen. The genre grew in popularity by the late eighteenth century, reflecting the move way from the optimism of earlier Russian literature, with its shining Enlightenment faith in the future and its relatively rigid genre structures, toward the tearful texts of Sentimentalism.57 Russian women only rarely wrote epitaphs; Dolgorukova and Anna A. Turchaninova offered examples of the genre with musings on the ephemeral nature of life. Elizaveta Moskvina too offers a poignantly personal epitaph to her deceased infant niece, which, were it longer, might better be designated an elegy. As with so many other genres, Sumarokov helped set the model for the elegy in Russia, writing ten of his twenty-seven elegies in a single year, 1759. Interestingly, it was in December 1759 that his daughter, Kniazhnina, became the first Russian woman to publish under her own name, with a poem she explicitly categorized as an elegy, “O you who always loved me.” It is not surprising that some reacted with suspicion to Kniazhnina’s debut, suspecting her father had a hand in the creation of the poem. After all, her lament over lost love follows her father’s model for the genre, which has been characterized as abstract, universal, and lacking evolution (in both story and psychology), narration, and a recognizable motivating framework.58 57. Stephen Baehr connects the epitaph to the elegy, which reflected the end of the unusual optimism of early Russian poetry. The elegy, according to Baehr, “stressed the omni-presence of an ever-hungry death,” while the epitaph similarly reflected “the general pessimism of the period.” Baehr, Paradise Myth in Eighteenth-Century Russia, 148. For an overview of the epitaph’s development in Russia, see Nikolaev and Tsar’kova, “Tri veka russkoi epitafii,” 5–44. Tsar’kova also offers an overview of the genre’s evolution and poetics in Russkaia stikhotvornaia epitafiia. 58. Gukovskii, Elegiia v XVIII veke, 58–66. See also Klein, Russkaia literatura v XVIII veke, 169–71. Klein also discuses Sumarokov’s love songs, 166–67. For more on the evolution of

Introduction 21 Moreover, Kniazhnina’s poem is written in the iambic hexameter that her father made canonical for the elegy in Russia. Also characteristic of her father’s take on the genre, her poem does not contemplate death or lost youth, but love. Indeed, her elegy could just as easily be called a love song, a popular genre in the Russian eighteenth century.59 As conventional and abstract as early elegies may be, the genre eventually evolved in Russia to include more narration, dramatic events, particular settings, and an increasing preoccupation with death rather than with lost love. Four decades after Kniazhnina, when Princess Elizaveta M. Dolgorukova and Neelova published their elegies, the genre would seem to bear little relation to early models and be influenced more by the popularity of the English poet Thomas Gray’s elegies than by Sumarokov’s. Neelova, for example, uses the term “elegy” as a loose marker for sadness rather than for structural adherence to the genre. In a concise trochaic trimeter she narrates the tale of her sister’s illness and death. The breakdown of genres in the 1770s–1790s notwithstanding, Dolgorukova’s 1798 elegy proceeds largely along traditional lines. In the canonical iambic hexameter she laments her sister’s passing but, unlike Neelova, focuses less on the particularities and more on the ephemeral nature of life, human suffering, and the inscrutability of God’s wisdom. In this way, Dolgorukova’s poem is related to the epitaph (which she also composes, as discussed above) and to the Russian poetic tradition of solemn odes and prayers. Scholars disagree about the place of the solemn spiritual ode in Russian women’s writing, but there can be no doubt that poems appearing under a range of generic categories, including the ode and prayer, as well as genres more typically identified by form than by thematics, like stanzas and sonnets, relate to a Russian tradition of spiritual poetry.60 The importance of religion to Russia’s developing literary tradition and Enlightenment was long ignored by Soviet scholars the elegy in Russia, see Frizman, Zhizn’ liricheskogo zhanra. 59. In the Petrine era that preceded that of Kniazhnina, love songs inspired by both native Russian spiritual songs and European romances were popular. Thus, it becomes difficult to draw a clear distinction between the elegy and love song genres in these conventional meditations on unhappy lost love. See Klein, Russkaia literatura v XVIII veke, 32–33. 60. Rosslyn (“Making Their Way into Print,” 425) places the solemn ode among the genres less commonly employed by women, whereas Catriona Kelly claims that “the major genre of

22 Introduction for ideological reasons, and by Western scholars shaped by their own dedication to a narrative of secularization and Westernization. As Levitt notes, however, “there was a distinct rapprochement between ecclesiastical and secular culture during the fifty-year period from the mid 1740s through the 1790s, corresponding to the reigns of Elizabeth and Catherine II.”61 The tradition of spiritual verse must be considered in light of this often-overlooked religious strain in eighteenth-century Russian poetry. The genre of spiritual ode began in earnest with Sumarokov’s psalms and then developed among the group of writers dubbed by Soviet scholars the “Sumarokov school”—namely, Mikhail M. Kheraskov and the poets who collaborated on his journal, Useful Entertainment (Poleznoe uveselenie).62 Kheraskov’s name appears frequently in this volume, as various women writers express their respect for his poetic gifts and their gratitude for his patronage. First among these admirers we should count his wife, Kheraskova, who was the second woman to publish in Russia. Her first three poems included in this volume were published in her husband’s journal in 1761 and follow his model of meditating on spiritual serenity and humility (“Stanzas”), appealing to God for the strength to withstand her enemies (“A Prayer”), and contemplating human kind’s perpetual unhappiness despite the glories of nature (“Sonnet”).63 That last poem has been linked to a broader trend toward “philosophical sonnets” among her husband’s circle.64 Other works in the volume that fit within the tradition of spiritual ode are Pospelova’s “A Prayer” and “Solitude” and Elizaveta Moskvina’s intimate “The Deathbed.” While these poems adhere to larger cultural trends set by men, it has been noted that by staking a claim to such “universal” thoughts on life and death, women in fact challenged the notion that they should limit themselves to the traditionally feminine discourse of love. In other words, women were neo-classical poetry that attracted most female practitioners, especially from the 1790s, was the solemn ode.” “Sappho, Corinna, and Niobe,” 44. 61. Levitt, “Rapprochement between ‘Secular’ and ‘Religious,’ ” 270. 62. See Gukovskii, Russkaia poeziia XVIII veka, 35–39. 63. Kheraskova’s spiritual sonnet is the only representative of that genre included in this volume. 64. Berdnikov, Schastlivyi feniks, 97.

Introduction 23 understood to stand outside “humanity,” so perhaps taking up such deeply human themes as God and death was subtly subversive.65 Just as the integration of the religious and secular distinguish Russian literature during the Enlightenment, so there are other genres that figured more prominently in Russia than they did in Europe. The love song, for example, was an enormously popular genre, with Sumarokov again as the main practitioner. It is no coincidence that the only poem in this volume for which authorship must be taken largely on faith is also the sole example of a love song, Maria V. Zubova’s poem “I Am Leaving for the Wilds.” Such songs, although championed by Sumarokov in his early years, were ranked toward the bottom of the hierarchy of genres and thus rarely made it into print, instead circulating in manuscript collections, with printed songbooks appearing only after mid-century.66 The lack of contemporary editions complicates the determination of authorship and can lead to all manner of legends, such as a wonderfully folksy song being attributed to the empress Elizabeth.67 Similarly, the true story of the serf Praskovia, who married the richest man in Russia, Count Sheremetev, was later made into a song by the peasants on his estate that eventually was attributed to the former peasant girl herself.68 Russian love songs ordinarily took the form of a simple monologue, in which the lyric “I” expresses thoughts in a psychologically plausible and simple fashion, expressing “the illusions of genuine emotions.”69 In the case of Zubova’s poem, the speaker is a woman lamenting separation from her lover. Kniazhnina’s “O you who always loved me,” although designated an elegy, largely conforms to characteristics of the popular song, and Kniazhnina was known among contemporaries as a composer of love songs. Love songs might seem a suitable genre for women, one that allows them to steer clear of the weighty “masculine” topics broached 65. See Rosslyn, “Making Their Way into Print,” 434. 66. Klein, Russkaia literatura v XVIII veke, 167. 67. See Göpfert and Fainshtein, Predstatel’nitsy muz, 24. 68. Göpfert (Predstatel’nitsy muz, 7, 23–24) continues the myth of both Praskoviia’s and Elizabeth Petrovna’s authorship. For a recent account of Praskoviia and Count Sheremetev, see Smith, Pearl, 42. 69. Klein, Russkaia literatura v XVIII veke, 168.

24 Introduction in spiritual verse. In fact, songs were problematic for women—the abstract love depicted in pastoral genres was one thing, but passion or eroticism in a recognizably contemporary setting quite another. The one poet who managed to bring together the acceptably feminine landscape of the pastoral with the passion of an epic was Urusova. Her five-canto poema, Polion, amounts to a Russian epic in a pastoral setting. Urusova further pushed the boundaries of women’s poetry with her cycle Heroides, in which heroines far exceed propriety with their crazed passion for their husbands and lovers. Although obviously based on Ovid’s cycle of the same name, the herois genre evolved in Russia from the sonnet and the madrigal into monologues that often acted as supplements to well-known tragedies. Sumarokov and Kheraskov both composed heroides, which were almost always from the woman’s perspective. A cousin of Kheraskova, Urusova was the only woman to put a female pen behind that female voice. If Polion was her opportunity to quietly accept the challenge of an epic, the cycle of heroides marked her surreptitious effort at another high-status genre denied to women, the tragedy. This discussion of genre concludes with the triumphant ode, which played an enormously important role in the eighteenth-century Russian culture of panegyrics.70 Especially in the 1750s–1770s the best-known poets, and a few female ones as well, offered paeans to the emperor or empress to celebrate their name day, the anniversary of their ascension to the throne or great military victories, or simply to celebrate the utopian vision of a great Russia emerging from the pre-Petrine gloom. The most famous poets had occasion to read these poems publically, sometimes accompanied by impressive fireworks displays and feasts. Odes were central to the literary polemic among the three founders of Russian literature—Trediakovsky, Lomonosov, and Sumarokov—and stood at the top of the genre hierarchy together with the tragedy and the epic. Given the high status of the ode and its concern with the “masculine” sphere of governance (despite the fact that a woman sat on the throne), women were clearly not encouraged in this genre. A 70. The literature on the Russian triumphant (panegyric) ode is vast, but little is available in English. See Vroon, “Aleksandr Sumarokov’s ‘Ody torzhestvennye.’ ” In Russian, see Gukovskii, “Iz istorii russkoi ody XVIII veka.”

Introduction 25 remarkable exception, included in this volume, is Sushkova’s “Stanzas on the Founding of the Russian Academy.” In this panegyric poem, Sushkova addresses not only the empress Catherine II but also another enlightened Russian woman of the time, Princess Ekaterina Dashkova, whom Catherine had recently appointed president of the newly founded Russian Academy. Sushkova’s ease with the genre is further confirmed when she follows the lead of the great poet and statesman, Gavrilo R. Derzhavin, whose famously playful ode to Catherine, “Felitsa,” is written from the perspective of an eastern murza.71 Consciously alluding to Derzhavin’s poem, Sushkova offers her own whimsical yet didactic response, “A Chinaman’s Letter to the Tatar Murza Residing in Petersburg on Business.” After Catherine II and Dashkova, Sushkova was certainly the most enlightened Russian woman of her age, but the era of Enlightenment and allegiance to classical genres was coming to an end, with major repercussions for women as readers and writers.

Sentimentalism and the “Feminization” of Russian Literature The universalist aesthetics of neoclassicism meant that the first Russian women to take up the pen, in the late 1750s–1770s were able to deflect the issue of the female subject quite easily, as there was no expectation or indeed understanding of a specific individual self in literary texts.72 All of that changed in the last decades of the eighteenth century. The breakdown of genres that accompanied the shift toward Sentimentalism was characterized by a “feminization” of Russian literature in which the perceived masculine attributes of reason and strength took a back seat to the purportedly feminine value placed on friendship, emotion, tears, unschooled wisdom, and sociability. As Gitta Hammarberg notes, “Women were treasured for what they presumably lacked: learning, old-fashioned education, respected jobs in government, law, business, etc.”73 Scholars continue to debate whether 71. For Derzhavin’s “Felitsa” in Russian, see Derzhavin, Stikhotvoreniia, 97–104, http:// rvb.ru/18vek/derzhavin/01text/017.htm. For an English translation, see Derzhavin, Poetic Works, 26–36. 72. Rosslyn, “Making Their Way into Print,” 434. 73. Hammarberg, “Feminine Chronotope and Sentimentalist Canon Formation,” 120.

26 Introduction this new value placed on the feminine was in fact a positive development for women. For example, Carolyn Heyder and Arja Rosenholm suggest that “femininity becomes an object of exchange in the male economy of signification; women become texts to be circulated as a bond between the male author and his male readers.”74 In other words, they claim that the “feminization” remains superficial—women remained in their passive role, serving the poet as only a “mirror for his male identity.”75 Whether men used women merely as a means to understand their own spiritual dilemmas or accepted them as possible creators in their own right, there can be little doubt that the new prestige of the “feminine” presented welcome publication opportunities for many women during the 1790s. This new access to readers, however, did not result, as one might expect, in increasing acclaim. Instead, the relative flood of women’s works into the Sentimentalist journals led to charges, some admittedly well founded, that untalented rhymesters were being published merely because of their gender. At the same time that women were finally appearing in the maledominated press in increased numbers, the first journals aimed at a specifically female readership were being organized. Once again, the apparently benign intentions of male mentors belied efforts to define and constrain women to appropriately female work. The male editors of the women’s journals “were actively soliciting submissions from women while expecting their work to be weak; their assessment of actual works by women consisted largely of fluffy flattery (often misogynistic) rather than substantial criticism.”76 Thus, Russian Sentimentalism bequeathed a complicated legacy for women: many benefitted by getting their work published, but male patrons’ condescendingly indulgent tone and fixed notions about acceptable “feminine” conduct, genres, and themes suggest that the door was opened to them only conditionally. Many women whose works appear in this volume appeared genuinely grateful to the men who granted them access to publication 74. Heyder and Rosenholm, “Feminisation as Functionalisation,” 53. 75. Ibid., 56. 76. Hammarberg, “Women, Critics, and Women Critics in Early Russian Women’s Journals,” 195. See also by Hammarberg, “Reading à la Mode,” 218–32.

Introduction 27 and who encouraged their craft. Originally publishing in the pages of Sentimentalist journals, they work within easily identifiable and acceptable feminine genres and roles. They humbly apologize for the temerity of sharing their words with the public and sing in cautious genteel tones of motherhood, sisterhood, and spousal affection. Are strains of the other voice nonetheless detectable in this docile “feminine” verse? Once again, we must read with attention to the cultural context. The shift from neoclassicism in the 1760s to Sentimentalism in the 1780s and 1790s brought with it a move from the relative “safety” of abstract universals to the more dangerous ground of the specific and personal. Yet some, like Zhukova and Neelova, despite adopting the accepted feminine roles of beloved sisters and devoted wives, engaged in a public airing of personal grief that breaks the boundaries of male Sentimentalist discourse. In the end, although Sentimentalism’s gifts had many strings attached, most women genuinely rejoiced in the opportunity to have any voice at all and largely accepted male expectations and guidance. After forty years of gratitude and conformity, interrupted occasionally by muted defiance, Aleksandra P. Murzina’s vituperative “To My Readers” (1799) must have come as something of a shock. In this poem Murzina attacks men’s preoccupation with female beauty and their pervasive prejudice against women’s intelligence. Not content to dissect their misogyny, she brazenly condemns the culture of the male Russian elite as morally depraved. We do not know whether women picked up on Murzina’s indignation. Seventeen years elapsed between her eloquent tirade and the next such outburst against male bigotry by the relatively unschooled and unknown provincial poet Maria Bolotnikova. Her published collection, A Country Lyre, includes two outspokenly feminist pieces: “A Reproach to Men” and “A Response to ‘An Epistle to Women.’ ” In the first poem Bolotnikova reiterates Murzina’s message, if in a less-polished manner, defending women’s intellect and disparaging men’s fickleness. In the second poem, Bolotnikova dismantles the Sentimentalist myth about men “worshipping” women as earthly angels. She suggests that this professed adoration masks the true

28 Introduction motivation of men, which was to distance women from the larger masculine world of power and opportunity.77 Appearing the same year as Bolotnikova’s collection was Bunina’s “Conversation between Me and the Women.” Although Bunina is usually considered a nineteenth-century poet and read within that context, her poem offers an interesting footnote to the origins of the other voice in Russia. Bunina responds to an apparently broad, but undocumented, population of women clamoring for a voice in Russian letters in the first years of the nineteenth century. In other words, Murzina and Bolotnikova may be the published representatives of a larger trend. Rather than join this chorus of women fighting to be heard as women Bunina summarily rejects their calls to write for them and about them. Thus, as the golden age of Russian literature dawned, Bunina, the first woman whose work garnered attention on aesthetic rather than historical grounds, appeared eager to stifle this particular brand of an emerging other voice in which women wrote about their plight as women. Perhaps heeding the lessons learned during Russian Sentimentalism, Bunina realized that to establish her own legitimacy as a great poet, she must resist marginalization as a “woman poet” dealing with “women’s issues.”78

Note on Texts and Translation With the exception of Bunina’s “Conversation between Me and the Women,” the poems in this volume have never been translated into

77. Specifically, Bolotnikova’s poem presages Barbara Heldt’s notion of “terrible perfection.” In the introduction to her book Heldt explains that Western feminist concepts about the “identification of the female with inferiority” do not work the same way in Russia, where female superiority “set the standard for the Russian novelistic heroine.” She notes that it was “a terrible perfection, frightening to men who could not match it in ‘manly’ action and inhibiting to women who were supposed to incarnate it, or else.” Heldt, Terrible Perfection, 4–5. 78. Vowles notes that “Bunina does not refuse to make common cause with the ladies because she rejects her sex; rather she rejects their solution—the ‘feminization’ of women and the woman writer. In doing so she rejects the ideas about women, language, and literature that the eighteenth century bequeathed to the nineteenth.” Vowles, “ ‘Feminization’ of Russian Literature,” 54. For more context about Bunina’s poem, see Rosslyn, Anna Bunina (1774–1829), and the Origins of Women’s Poetry in Russia, 228–30.

Introduction 29 English and remain largely unknown even in Russia.79 Although many of the poems here appeared previously (in Russian) in Frank Göpfert’s 1998 anthology, Predstatel’nitsy muz: Russkie poetessy XVIII veka, I have returned to the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century sources for all of them. Göpfert deserves enormous credit for bringing early Russian women poets to light, but his volume suffers from lack of a critical apparatus, transcription errors—including occasional missed lines and authors’ notes—and errors, both major and minor, in attribution.80 I seek to rectify those problems in this volume with brief introductions to each poet and explanatory notes to make the poems more accessible to readers unfamiliar with eighteenth-century Russian history and culture. In keeping with recent convention for transliterating eighteenth- and nineteenth-century Russian texts, I have replaced the prerevolutionary ѣ with е, and I have omitted hard signs (ъ) at the end of words, but otherwise I have maintained the original spelling and grammatical endings, as they may be of interest to students of Russian. For example, “щастливый” frequently appears rather than the modern “счастливый,” and voiced-voiceless combinations such as “зс” are frequent—for example, “разстроит” rather than “расстроит.” Russian speakers will encounter feminine nominative plurals in “-ыя” rather than “-ые” and masculine and neuter genitive (and animate accusative) adjectives in “-аго” rather than “-ого.” They should not be surprised to see “ль” and “ж” appended directly to the preceding word, rather than appearing separately, as in modern texts. In the same spirit, the original punctuation has been maintained in the Russian texts but regularized for clarity in the English translations.

79. Translated excerpts from some poems do appear in various scholarly articles. 80. Göpfert proceeds too liberally in several of his attributions. For example, as I note in the introduction to Kniazhnina’s poem, he credits her with several poems long accepted as belonging to her father, A. P. Sumarokov. In the same volume he attributes a song to Sheremetova-Kovaleva, although that attribution has long been accepted as based in legend. He similarly credits Empress Elizaveta Petrovna with a lovely stylized folksong, despite lack of documentary evidence to support her authorship. Finally, I discovered incorrect attribution resulting from his confusing the poets Nilova and Neelova.

30 Introduction In Russia the tradition of rhymed verse persists in a way quite alien to contemporary Anglo-American poetry.81 All the poems in this volume use rhymed verse in the original Russian. As discussed at length above, meter and rhyme had the important function of signaling genre to readers. Although mindful of the central place of rhyme and meter, I felt that maintaining them in the English versions would have come at too high a cost to the fidelity of translation. In an effort to keep the reader grounded in the genre-based cues lost in translation, the individual author introductions include details about each poem’s structure, including meter and rhyme. Although the poems are rendered in prose, every effort was made to maintain the integrity of the individual line so that readers can easily follow along with the Russian and English texts side by side. Occasionally the exigencies of English word order forced me to concede defeat and flip the order of lines to maintain clarity. Of course, in cases of anaphora—the intentional repetition of words at the beginning of a series of lines—the device has been retained. Even when individual lines are maintained, I could not always follow the Russian word order. As a strongly inflected language, Russian allows for considerable flexibility in word order, a tendency even more strongly pronounced in eighteenth-century writing than today’s. A few words about style and diction are in order. I chose not to distinguish between Russian singular and informal “ty” (thou) and the plural and formal “vy” (you), except for in poems intended as prayers or spiritual meditations for which the “thou” resonates with English-speaking readers. By failing to mark the “thou”/”you” distinction, the English translation does lose subtle indications of intimacy and formality present in the original. Yet, since modern Russian still distinguishes between “thou” and “you,” it seemed that marking the texts to English readers as archaic by the use of “thou” was infusing them with a historical strangeness not present in the original. In other words, a Russian reader today might find these texts archaic in all sort of ways, but the “thou”/“you” distinction would not be one of them. Instead, it is the syntax, orthography, and lexicon that mark these texts as historically distant to the modern Russian eye. With that in mind, 81. For the cues provided by genre and rhyme scheme in the eighteenth century, see Scherr, Russian Poetry.

Introduction 31 I situated these translations in the late eighteenth century primarily through lexicon and syntax. In addition to numerous Russian dictionaries, including the nineteenth-century masterpiece by V. I. Dal’ and Academy dictionaries of eighteenth-century Russian, I relied heavily on the timeline function in the Oxford English Dictionary, checking even the most run-of-the-mill expressions to avoid anachronism. These frequent checks ensured not only that a particular term was in use in the eighteenth century, but that at that time it held the specific meaning implied by the translation. My hope is that the resulting texts are highly readable but still convey a distinct sense of the age in which they were composed.

Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Kniazhnina (1746–1797) Introduction The history of women in Russian letters opens with a question mark. Despite persistent speculation about the extent of her literary activity, there is scant documented information about the first published Russian woman writer, Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Kniazhnina (née Sumarokova).1 We do know that she was born in St. Petersburg in 1746 to A. P. Sumarokov, one of the founding fathers of Russian secular literature, and to his first wife, Johanna Balk, a lady-in-waiting to the grand duchess (the future Catherine the Great), and that she was schooled at home.2 The details of Sumarokov’s involvement in his daughter’s literary development are unknown, but his own poems and letters suggest that, rare among Russian men of his time, he enthusiastically encouraged women to take up the pen.3 Kniazhnina’s one attested poem appeared in her father’s literary journal the Industrious Bee (Trudoliubivaia pchela) in March 1759, indicating at least some paternal support for her efforts. When her parents divorced around 1766, Sumarokova moved to Moscow with her father. Two years later she married his protégé, the playwright and poet Iakov Borisovich 1. There were likely a few women publishing prior to Kniazhnina, but their work appeared anonymously and has not been subsequently attributed. In his 1772 work Essay on a Historical Dictionary of Russian Writers, Novikov mentions two women contemporaries of Kniazhnina whom he identifies as poets, but their work remains unknown. Novikov, Opyt istoricheskago slovaria o rossiskikh pisateliakh, 264; and http://rvb.ru/18vek/ novikov/01text/02criticism/17.htm. Novikov refers to the otherwise unknown Anna Ivanovna Vel’iasheva-Vol’yntseva for having written “quite a bit of verse” and then notes her several translated works of prose (29). He similarly praises Aleksandra Feodotovna Rzhevskaia for her talents, explaining that she worked in “verse, painting, and music, had a great love of reading, and was elegant in French, Italian, and in her native tongue” (87). 2. Levitt notes that her name may have been Balior, rather than Balk. Levitt, “A. P. Sumarokov,” 373. In her memoirs Catherine refers to the lady-in-waiting “Mademoiselle Balk, who later married the poet Sumarokov.” Catherine II, Memoirs of Catherine the Great, 27. 3. Kochetkova (“Sumarokov i zhenshchiny-pisatel’nitsy,” 32–37) notes Sumarokov’s support for women writers, including his two poems dedicated to Elizaveta Kheraskova, whose work appears later in this volume.

33

34 Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Kniazhnina Kniazhnin, who reportedly further encouraged her development as a poet. Kniazhnina died in St. Petersburg in 1797.4 Beyond these basic biographical facts, information on Kniazhnina falls into the realm of legend and anecdote. Over a century after her death, curiosity about her status as Russia’s first woman poet, combined with interest in her famous father’s tumultuous life and career, led to various accounts of her social escapades and literary activities. Kniazhnina, we are told, stood out as a “girl poet” at the court of Empress Elizabeth, where men stood in awe of her erudition and other girls shunned her in fear. She was apparently on good terms with her father’s archrival, the poet and academician M. V. Lomonosov, who praised her brilliance and would kiss her hand. The Kniazhnins are also credited, many believe falsely, with hosting Russia’s first literary gatherings, making their home a center of artistic activity in the 1780s.5 Kniazhnina herself has been cast as something of a loose woman for her time: it was rumored that she embarrassed her father during her courtship with Kniazhnin by allowing her fiancé to publish her love poems, albeit anonymously. The poems purportedly made a splash in high society, where everyone guessed the true identity of the author. Sumarokov, so the story goes, then published those same songs in his journal under his own name, perhaps as a punitive reassertion of paternal control over her conduct.6 His support of women 4. V. A. Zapadov offers the most recent and objective account of Kniazhnina’s basic biography. See Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Kniazhnina, Ekaterina Aleksandrovna,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=460. 5. See Makarov, “Materialy”; and Mordovtsev, Zamechatel’nye istoricheskie zhenshchiny na Rusi. See also Slovar’ russkikh pistatelei; and Ledkovsky, Dictionary of Russian Women Writers. These anecdotes about the gatherings at the Kniazhnin home and Kniazhnina’s literary aspirations were apparently confirmed by Pranksters (Prokazniki), a play by the “Russian La Fontaine,” I. A. Krylov, who aimed his satirical wit at their pretensions. More recently, Zapadov, though agreeing that Krylov had the Kniazhnins in mind, nonetheless rejects accounts of a Kniazhnin “salon” as mere legend and notes that Krylov’s satire was sparked by a personal falling out with the couple (Slovar’ russkikh pistatelei). 6. This story initially comes to light in Makarov, “Materialy.” For a more detailed account, see Zapadov’s entry for Kniazhnina in Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei. Like Makarov, Mordovtsev credits Kniazhnina with Sumarokov’s well-known poem “Against Enemies” (Protiv zlodeev). Mordovtsev, Zamechatel’nye istoricheskie zhenshchiny na Rusi, 68. More recently, Ledkovsky (Dictionary of Russian Women, 299) notes this attribution of “Against Enemies” and suggests the possibility of other unsigned poems by Kniazhnina published in her father’s

Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Kniazhnina 35 writers notwithstanding, Sumarokov considered love poetry written in a women’s voice unseemly.7 One can only wonder what prompted him to publish his as yet unmarried daughter’s love elegy under her own name; the poem is signed “Katerina Sumarokova.” Whether in deference to her father’s concerns about propriety or due to her own sense of a woman’s proper role, Kniazhnina’s one attested poem is written in a male voice addressed to a female lover. Although several of her father’s poems have been mistakenly anthologized under her name, this elegy remains the only piece that can be definitively attributed to her.8 The heavily gendered nature of the Russian language, which reveals gender in its morphology, makes for a constant reminder of the masculine voice in the poem.9 The result is a rather conventional love song of the period.10 As mentioned in the introduction to this volume, it is hard to draw a clear line between genres such as the “elegy” and “love song” in this period. Despite Kniazhnina’s identification of this poem as an elegy, the reflections on lost love and the evocation of romantic passion tie it directly to the songs for which her father was well known and literary journal. In his anthology of eighteenth-century Russian women poets, Göpfert (Predstatel’nitsy muz, 35–42) attributes, without substantiation, nine pieces to Kniazhnina. The present volume errs on the side of caution, and includes only the one poem that was originally published under Kniazhnina’s name. 7. Various quotations on this topic attributed to Sumarokov are offered by Vladimirov, Pervye russkie pisatel’nitsy XVIII veka, 23; see also Mordovtsev, Zamechatel’nye istoricheskie zhenshchiny na Rusi, 66; Ledkovsky, Dictionary of Russian Women Writers, 299. Rosslyn also notes that Sumarokova “was satirized as a vain chatterbox barely able to write platitudes but willing to take the initiative in sexual adventures.” Rosslyn, “Making Their Way into Print,” 409. 8. One prominent Sumarokov scholar, Pavel Berkov, goes so far as to suggest that the elegy published under Kniazhnina’s name was actually the work of her father and that she was never a poet at all. Zapadov (Slovar’russkikh pisatelei) rejects this suggestion. 9. According to legend, this song became very popular and, due to its known female authorship, was often sung from the female perspective, repositioning the lover as a man. See Mordovtsev, “Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Kniazhnina,” 69. 10. Kniazhnina’s most generous reader would have to be Vankovich (“Pervaia russkaia poetessa,” 181), who claims that “Kniazhnina’s elegy is not without obvious merit. It contains much expressiveness, passion, sincere human feeling.” He also suggests that she knew literary theory: “This is attested by the melodiousness and rhythm of her poem, its content and form.”

36 Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Kniazhnina she herself, apparently, notorious. The two genres are in fact linked not only thematically but also structurally. Kniazhnina composes her poem in iambic hexameter, the standard form for both songs and elegies at the time. In keeping with what was becoming a well-established meter not only for light and middle genres but also for dramatic texts and narrative poems, Kniazhnina proceeds in iambic hexameter couplets, with alternating masculine and feminine rhymes, and a caesura after the sixth syllable.11 This, the opening act in the history of Russian women’s writing, can hardly be read as a challenge to the dominant male voice. Yet one must keep in mind the great lag in the development of Russian literature in comparison to Europe—male poets in Russia had been active for just two decades. Thus the very act of a woman writing and publishing can be appreciated for its daring. It should also be remembered that a great deal of writing published by men in this early period of Russian letters was similarly conventional. Kniazhnina may slip away behind a male voice, but she signed her name openly, thus staking a claim for women writers; many of her more accomplished female compatriots would avoid openly signing their work for years to come. Thus Kniazhnina, in a sense, threw down the gauntlet, daring women to follow her example and come forward with their poems. By writing as a man but signing her work as a woman, Kniazhnina perhaps attempted to broaden rather than circumscribe the sphere of acceptability for women poets.12 The reader’s sensibility is not affronted by a woman declaring her passion. Yet the author’s identity as a female is nonetheless sensed, although at a safe distance, just beyond the text.13

11. For details on this meter, see Scherr, Russian Poetry, 61–65. 12. Discussing the apparent paradox of women signing poems in which they adopt a male persona, Rosslyn notes that “using a clearly-gendered masculine voice could enlarge the areas of experience which women could treat, by giving access to genres in which it was the norm, such as the ode or Anacreontic verse.” Rosslyn, “Making Their Way into Print,” 429. 13. Rosslyn also discusses women’s signatures and the adoption of pseudonyms that went to pains not to conceal their gender. “Making Their Way into Print,” 435.

38 Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Kniazhnina Элегия О ты, которая всегда меня любила, А ныне навсегда со всем уже забыла! Ты мне еще мила, мила в моих глазах, А я уж без тебя в стенаньи и слезах Хожу без памяти, не знаю что спокойство Все плачу и грущу; моей то жизни свойство. Как я с тобою был, приятен был тот час; Но то скончалося и скрылося от нас. Однако я люблю, люблю тебя сердечно, И буду я любить тебя всем сердцем вечно, Хоть и разстался я любезная с тобой, Хотя не вижу я тебя перед собой. Увы, зачто, зачто толико я нещастен! Зачто любезная тобою так я страстен! Всего ты рок лишил ты отнял всё злой рок, В век буду я стонать когда ты так жесток, И после моего с любезной разлученья, Не буду провождать минуты без мученья. —1759

Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Kniazhnina 39 Elegy1 O you who always loved me, But have now utterly forgotten! You are still dear to me, dear in my eyes. And without you, I wander, all moaning and in tears, Head over heels, knowing no peace. Such is my life, always crying and grieving. Pleasant was that time when I was with you. But that has ended and slipped away from us. Yet I love you; love you dearly. And I will forever love you with all my heart, Even though, my beloved, I have parted with you; Although I no longer see you before me. Alas, why am I so unfortunate! My beloved, why am I so impassioned of you! Fate, you took away everything; you took everything, wicked Fate. Ever will I moan when you are so cruel. And after parting with my beloved, Not a moment will I pass without torment. —1759

Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova (1737–1809) Introduction Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova (née Neronova) was the first Russian woman to leave behind a substantial literary legacy. She was born into a noble, though not particularly distinguished, family. Her father, Vasilii Vasil’evich Neronov, served first as major general and then as vice-general of Moscow. Little is known about her early life, but her published works suggest a strong education at home and a family culture dedicated to belles lettres.1 Like her younger contemporary Kniazhnina, whose famous father and husband initiated her into the world of poetry and theater, Kheraskova was granted unusual access to the great literary talents of her day through her marriage to the writer, publicist, and Freemason Mikhail M. Kheraskov.2 Whether “salons” in the European sense, or simply “literary evenings,” there can be no doubt that the Kheraskovs hosted vibrant literary gatherings. They welcomed luminaries of the day, including I. P. Elagin, I. I. Dmitriev, and G. R. Derzhavin, as well as Kheraskov’s cousin, another pioneering woman poet, Princess Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova, whose work appears in this volume.3 Kheraskova and Urusova were 1. A brief biographical sketch of Kheraskova can be found in Ledkovsky, Dictionary of Russian Women Writers, 283–84. That entry is based primarily on the more detailed, but subjective and anecdotal, accounts in Novikov, Opyt istoricheskago slovaria, 235; Makarov, “Elisaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova,” 100–3; and Vladimirov, Pervye russkie pisatel’nitsy XVIII veka, 24–26. Golitsyn’s work, although quite dated, includes an entry on Kheraskova that lists many further sources for details on her published works, correspondence, literary legacy, and obituary: Golitsyn, Bibliograficheskii slovar’ russkikh pisatel’nits, 265–66. By far the most detailed and up-to-date scholarly treatment of Kheraskova remains Göpfert, “Observations on the Life and Work of Elizaveta Kheraskova,” 163–86. 2. For more on women writers’ patronage from family members, see Rosslyn, “Making Their Way into Print,” 416. 3. Derzhavin, who would eventually become Russia’s most revered poet of the eighteenth century, had Kheraskova to thank for his introduction into such exalted literary society. See Bennett, “Parnassian Sisters of Derzhavin’s Acquaintance,” 250. Anna Labzina’s memoirs include observations about her time with her “benefactors,” the Kheraskovs. She recounts household routines, her exclusion from the literary evenings, and Kheraskov’s advice to remain meek and obedient. Anna Labzina, Days of a Russian Noblewoman, 52–64.

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42 Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova not only related through Kheraskov, but were close friends who encouraged each other’s writing.4 Kheraskova marked her published literary debut in 1760, the same year she married. The first three poems presented here appeared in her husband’s journal, Useful Entertainment (Poleznoe uveselenie), in 1760 and 1761.5 Despite this auspicious debut, she appears in print again only ten years later, with a 1772 Russian adaptation of the work of Swiss artist and poet Salomon Gessner, whose conventional pastoral works were enormously popular at the time.6 That shift toward Gessner and pastoral poetry persists in her next published works, short lyric poems in N. M. Karamzin’s journal, Aonids (Aonidy) in 1796. Kheraskova clearly received support for her literary endeavors from her husband and other male mentors. A decade after her first poems appeared, N. I. Novikov records her success in his famous Dictionary, dubbing Kheraskova the “Russian Madame de la Suze.” That well-intentioned epithet has led generations of scholars to characterize Kheraskova as a Russian response to that French précieuse.7 In fact, not too much should be made of Novikov’s description of Kheraskova 4. Kochetkova notes that from about 1770 “Urusova constantly socialized with Kheraskov and his wife Elizaveta Vasil’evna.” Kochetkova, “Kniazhna Urusova i ee literaturnye sobesedniki,” 95. Confirming that close bond, Derzhavin’s collected correspondence includes a 1778 letter from the Kheraskovs to which Urusova appends a note, and similarly, a 1786 note from Urusova includes a note from Kheraskova. Derzhavin, Sochineniia Derzhavina s ob’iasnitel’nymi primechaniami Ia. Grota, 295–96 and 520–22. For more on this literary friendship, see the introduction to Urusova below. 5. Kheraskova never had children, but was known to be particularly devoted to her husband and to household management, which may have left little time for writing. See Ledkovsky, Dictionary of Russian Women Writers, 284. The entry on Kheraskova makes no specific connection between domestic matters and her dropping literary activities, but does note that “childless, Kheraskova was fabled for her devotion to her husband and her careful management of the household,” 284. 6. Göpfert (“Observations on the Life and Work,” 170–71) speculates on possible reasons for her long silence, many related to upheaval in her husband’s career. He also mentions her adaption of Gessner’s idyll. The Swiss-born Gessner was a painter, engraver, and poet, and his Sentimental idylls were immensely popular in the mid-eighteenth century. In 1772 Kheraskova published her translation of Gessner’s dramatic dialogue, Ein Gemälde aus der Sintflut. For more on Gessner, see Hibberd, Salomon Gessner; and Bersier, “Arcadia Revitalized,” 34–47. 7. Novikov, Opyt istoricheskago slovaria, 235.

Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova 43 as a new de la Suze or other writers’ characterization of her as Russia’s Sappho.8 Eighteenth-century writers were frequently labeled—both in praise and condemnation—as Russian incarnations of various ancient and contemporary foreign masters. Rather than reflecting a profound stylistic or thematic connection, the attribution was intended to indicate that the Russian writer had achieved a level of perfection in his or her work on par with the great foreign author.9 In Kheraskova’s case, these comparisons put forward a basic model for the woman poet: she should follow in the path of other women and steer clear of the highest genres—the epic, where her husband had cemented his fame with The Rossiada—as well as the celebratory ode and tragedy. Instead, women should compose light lyric poetry about idealized love and tenderness, without straying from the pastoral landscape. This is not to suggest that men were not writing pastoral verse. On the contrary, as her translation of Gessner reveals, male writers dominated in all genres, including eclogues, idylls, and other light verse. But men had options. They could easily move from the rolling green hills and sweet shepherdesses to the thunder of battle. Women, it seemed, had no such choice. Although Kheraskova avoids the “masculine” realm of epic battlefield and triumphant ode, her oeuvre nonetheless confounds expectations. She neither adopted a romantic pose in the mold of Kniazhnina’s love song, nor turned to themes of domesticity—home and hearth, friendship, motherhood—that characterized the work of female contemporaries. Instead, as Frank Göpfert notes, Kheraskova “treats questions of happiness and misfortune, fate, humility, dignity, and pride,” with a foundational belief that “in misfortune man should not despair.”10 In fact, the same could be said of her husband, who was becoming an increasingly influential figure in Russian literary circles 8. Kelly does just this in “Sappho, Corinna, and Niobe,” 43. 9. See Gukovskii, “Russkaia literaturno-kriticheskaia mysl’ v 1730–1750-e gody,” 107. Examples of epithets are Lomonosov as the Russian Pindar and Sumarokov as the Russian Racine or Northern Boileau. Evgeny Sviasov confirms that Kheraskova was the first Russian woman to be designated a “Sappho.” He meticulously traces the development of the epithet “Russian Sappho” in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Sviasov, “Safo i ‘zhenskaia poeziia,’ ” 11–28. 10. Göpfert, “Observations on the Life and Work,” 166, 169.

44 Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova of the 1760s. Kheraskov’s poetic oeuvre has been characterized as dealing with “the ephemeral nature of earthly existence, the insignificance of man and the powerlessness of reason, the preaching of virtue, and the juxtaposition of the corrupt city with humble country life.”11 Thus, we must consider Kheraskova’s poems within the broader context of her husband’s Masonic beliefs, the development in the Kheraskovs’ circle of what has been termed “gentry stoicism,” and perhaps most importantly, the intense experimentation with genre, form, meter, and rhyme that was taking place in the pages of Kheraskov’s Useful Entertainment at the time his wife’s work appeared there.12 Her first published poems fit comfortably within the context of her husband’s “New Odes” (Novye ody) in 1762 and “Philosophical Odes or Songs (Filosoficheskie ody ili pesni) in 1769, all of which have been read as early evidence of his Masonic ideals.13 The first and final poems translated here serve as bookmarks to Kheraskova’s career, as they both appear with no title beyond the loose generic marker of “stanzas” and express the literary and philosophical concerns of the Kheraskov circle, with its focus on earthly vanity and stoic calm in the face of death. The stanza was a loosely conceived genre derived from the French “strophes” and was employed with some frequency in eighteenth-century Russia.14 When Kheraskova was writing, stanzas varied widely in meter, stanzaic structure, and rhyme; her title simply signaled a short lyric poem in which each stanza comprised a thematic and syntactic whole. If in the 1760s stanzas were apparently associated with spiritual or meditative poetry, by the 1780s the term had broadened sufficiently to encompass any work in verse.15 11. Rak, “M. M. Kheraskov,” also at http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=5294. 12. For more on the poetic experimentation among the Kheraskov group, particularly in relation to the development of the sonnet in Russia, see Berdnikov, Schastlivyi feniks, 97–98. For “gentry stoicism,” Pospelov, Problemy literaturnogo stilia, 88–89. Kheraskova’s poems echo her husband’s worldview. 13. See Kukushkina, “Poeziia M. M. Kheraskova.” 14. Indeed, Kheraskova’s husband published two stanzas around this same period, which depart markedly in form from hers. See Kheraskov, Izbrannye proizvedeniia, 112–15, also at http://www.rvb.ru/18vek/heraskov/toc.htm. 15. By way of example, see Maria Sushkova’s 1783 “Stanzas on the Founding of the Russian Academy,” which appears in this volume.

Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova 45 Even in her later work, Kheraskova appears devoted to the earlier stanza tradition. Separated by a span of more than thirty-five years, both experiments in the genre are five-stanza poems of six lines each on the theme of humankind’s existential dissatisfaction and misplaced concern with the pleasures and rewards of earthly life. The earlier poem is composed in iambic tetrameter with a rhyme scheme of AbAbCC. The later work, labeled “stanza,” is also a five-stanza poem, with a rhyme scheme changed only in that it begins with masculine rather than feminine rhyme: aBaBCC. In the later poem Kheraskova has also chosen a longer line, the iambic hexameter with an obligatory caesura. In keeping with the broader literary trends of the 1790s, she has left behind the abstract landscape of disembodied virtues and sins for a pastoral setting in which the beauty and calm of nature occasion her meditations. In this later work she also becomes more playful with rhyme; violating the strictures against repeated rhymes in this genre, she punctuates the concluding couplets of the first, third, and fifth stanzas with the word for “person” (chelovek), pairing it with the term for the “time allotted for one’s life on earth” (vek) in the first and last stanzas—(vek/chelovek) and with the verb for time having “flowed away” (protek) in the third stanza—(chelovek/protek). This rhyme structure elegantly emphasizes the theme of the poem itself. Kheraskova’s “Stanzas” appeared in the first issue of Karamzin’s Aonids in 1796. It has been suggested that Karamzin thus honored the poem for expressing his new journal’s core values and at the same time marked respect for Kheraskova’s decades of involvement in Russian literary life.16 “A Prayer” (Molitva) belongs to the same period as Kheraskova’s early “Stanzas” and, like that poem, appeared in 1760 in her husband’s journal, Useful Entertainment. It is written in a standard iambic tetrameter with an AbAb rhyme scheme. With “A Prayer,” Kheraskova’s focus shifts from earthly vanity and fleeting time to God as a comfort to the shunned and oppressed. Perhaps best understood within the context of Russian spiritual poetry, the poem may be inspired by psalmic laments.17 Kheraskova uses masculine forms, but ambiguously; they 16. See Göpfert, “Observations on the Life and Work,” 174, which includes a brief reading of the poem, noting that “it is lighter, and turned more toward life, nature, and beauty.” 17. Although not discussing this poem per se, Göpfert does mention the possible influence on Kheraskova of the eminent Russian churchman and orator Feofan Prokopovich. See

46 Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova could refer to the lyric I or to man in general. The poem neither alludes to problems of gender nor exposes the author as a woman. Yet, just as her predecessor Kniazhnina’s love poem, written from a masculine voice, suggested unease with women writing in that genre, so too Kheraskova’s “Prayer” forces us to consider women’s voices within the dominant cultural discourses. Wendy Rosslyn notes that in eighteenthcentury Russia poetry carried a “quasi-religious authority”: Poetry was the language of the gods, a kind of sacred text possessing absolute truth, and the medium for morally significant expression. The poet was seen as prophet, inspired by the divine, and mediating between the divine and the reader. But it was not easy for women to claim such authority.18 Thus, a poem that might appear unremarkable and “ungendered” if composed by a man, can be read as a potentially bold challenge to established male authority when considered within the context of women writers at the time. The specific context of Kheraskova’s 1761 “Sonnet” is easier to confirm. In his work on the history of the Russian sonnet, Lev Berdnikov traces the genre’s development in the mid-eighteenth century from A. P. Sumarokov’s sonnets to conscious efforts by Kheraskov and his sympathizers to rework the genre formally—experimenting with new meters and stanzaic structures—and thematically—infusing the sonnet with more “warmth” and insisting it be motivated by a particular context, such as an address to a spurned lover.19 The Kheraskov group used the sonnet to explore not just romantic love, but also philosophy. With this in mind, we can consider Kheraskova’s 1761 “Sonnet” as a direct response to Sumarokov’s 1755 “When I Entered into the World” (Kogda ia v svet vstupil).20 As Berdnikov Gopfert, “Observations on the Life and Work,” 167–69. 18. Rosslyn, “Making Their Way into Print,” 418. Rosslyn does not specifically refer to Kheraskova with these lines. 19. Berdnikov, Schastlivyi feniks, 88–90. 20. Ibid., 97. For Sumarokov’s sonnet, see Sumarokov, Izbrannye proizvedeniia, 170, also at http://rvb.ru/18vek/sumarokov/01text/01versus/11sonets/067.htm.

Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova 47 notes, Kheraskova’s poem adopts the same structure as Sumarokov’s (aBBa aBBa CCd EdE) and treats the same theme of earthly vanity and sorrow, but she departs from that model in her specific treatment of that theme (childhood, youth, and old age are considered identical stages of life) and by rejecting the abstract landscape of Sumarokov’s poem. In Kheraskova’s sonnet the lyric persona addresses mortals in the second-person singular (“you”), moves towards a first-person plural (“we”) and concludes with the first-person singular (“I”). Most strikingly, whereas Sumarokov laments the end of his days, Kheraskova’s speaker embraces death as the fulfilled promise of longawaited peace.21 This polemical poetic exchange was taken with rare good humor by the usually cranky Sumarokov. Just four months after Kheraskova’s sonnet appeared in Useful Entertainment, he published in that same journal a poem dedicated to her in which he warmly encourages her talents: I know you breathe the spirit of Parnassus; You write poems. No one has placed the female mind in chains. What law states that ladies should not write? Minerva is a woman; On Mount Helicon not a single man resides among the whole host of Muses. Write! You shall be no less beautiful for doing so. A beautiful woman’s soul should also be beautiful.22 Yet Sumarokov, for all his admiration, had quite specific notions about the genres and themes that Kheraskova should adopt. In a self-styled “Anacreontic ode” addressed to Kheraskova the following year, he again opens with enthusiastic praise for the “Moscow poetess,” urging her to become Russia’s “new Sappho.” Insisting she leave the singing of heroes and battles to others, he directs her toward the pastoral landscape: 21. Berdnikov, Schastlivyi feniks, 97–98. 22. Aleksander Petrovich Sumarokov, “Lisitsa i statuia: K Elizavete Vasil’evne Kheraskovoi,” Poleznoe uveselenie (May 1761): 161. Republished in A. P. Sumarokov, Izbrannye proizvedeniia, 213, http://rvb.ru/18vek/sumarokov/01text/01versus/17parables/101.htm.

48 Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova Go to the green meadows Go to the streams Wander in the groves And listen to the birds sing… .23 In her response, Kheraskova does not specifically address questions of genre and theme but remarks that the Moscow writers will not listen to requests for correct grammar because they are “so stubborn that they would not listen to Apollo himself.” She then graciously thanks him for his confidence in her, adding, “As concerns me, I will try to be worthy of the title with which you have honored me, that is, of Moscow poetess.”24 We may never know why Kheraskova fell silent between 1772 and 1796. Whatever the reasons, when she reappeared a quarter century later in the journal Aonids, she set her enduring philosophical preoccupations in the Sentimental Arcadia recommended by Sumarokov years earlier.

23. Sumarokov, Izbrannye proizvedeniia, 103. 24. Elizaveta Kheraskova, “Pis’mo E. Kheraskovoi A. P. Sumarokovu,” Otechestvennye zapiski 116, no. 2 (1858): 582.

50 Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova Станс Будь душа всегда спокойна, Не стремись за суетой: Частью я своей довольна; Не гоняюсь за другой. Век течет мой без напасти. Не терзают дух мой страсти. В зависть дух то не приводит, Есть ли пышно кто живет; Так как сон сие проходит, И скоряй всего минет. Доли сей я убегаю; Пышной жизни не желаю. Лишнее не льстит богатство, Я довольна и своим; Тот в спокойстве зрит препятство, Кто гоняется за ним. Бедность мысль не безпокоит, Душу злато не разстроит. Огорчение любовно Не тревожит кровь мою; Серце я имею вольно; Не вздыхаю, слез не лью. Ты душа во мне безстрастна, Будь уму всегда подвластна. Ничего не остается, Чтоб тревожило покой: Дух и серце предается Только вольности одной. Коль сует я убегаю: Я спокойно жизнь скончаю. —1760

Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova 51 Stanzas1 My soul, be ever tranquil. Aspire not to vanity. I am content with my fate;2 No other do I chase. My days flow by without misfortune. Passions do not torment my spirit. The spirit does not become envious Because others live in splendor. For all of this flows by like a dream And will quickly pass. I flee that fate. I do not desire a life of splendor. Needless wealth does not gratify. I am content with my own. He who chases it Sees obstacles even in tranquility. Poverty does not disturb my thoughts. Gold will not trouble my soul. The anguish of love Does not stir my blood.3 My heart is free. I neither sigh nor shed tears. My soul, you are impassive; Be ever subject to reason. There is nothing left To disturb my peace. My spirit and heart give themselves up To liberty alone. As long as I flee vanity, I will end my life at peace. —1760

52 Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova Молитва К тебе, Творец, я прибегаю, Твоей я помощи прошу; Тебе то сердце подвергаю, В котором скорби я ношу. Ты будь несчастному ограда, Стесенному со всех сторон; Будь мне надежда и награда Терзаему без оборон. Злодеи на меня востали И устремляются губить; И те наносят мне печали, Которы в век клялись любить. Друзья мне зделались недруги, Губят и гонят в света вон; Забвенны все мои услуги, Пренебрежен мой плачь и стон. Нет мест несчастному сокрыться, От злости их и клеветы: К тебе лишь мысль моя стремится; Один заступник, Боже, Ты. Смири врагов моих, Создатель, Отри потоки слез моих: Сердец Ты чистых обладатель, О! Боже, будь защитник их. —1760

Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova 53 A Prayer4 To Thee, Creator, I hasten And ask thy help. To Thee I submit my heart Filled with sorrow. Be a protector to the unfortunate; To those surrounded on all sides. Be a hope and reward to me. I am tormented and without defense. Enemies have risen against me And aim to destroy. They who vowed to love me forever Bring me sorrow. My friends have turned enemy. They ruin and chase me away. Forgotten are my good turns. Neglected are my weeping and moans. The unfortunate have nowhere to hide From their malice and slander. To Thee alone my thoughts aspire; O God, Thou art the one intercessor. Creator, subdue my enemies. Wipe dry my tears. Thou art the master of pure hearts— O God, be their defender. —1760

54 Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova Сонет К чему желаешь ты, О! смертный, долгий век! Довольно сносишь ты и в кратку жизнь напасти. Родимся мы в слезах, растем покорны власти. В младых днях чувствует досаду человек. Те дни все протекут, как ток быстрейших рек Твой дух тревожить вдруг начнут различны страсти, В мученьи станешь ты другой желати части, Чтоб рок твою напасть и горесть пересек. Вдруг старость все твои желанья унижтожит, К напастям и бедам болезни приумножит, Она надежду всю со днями унесет. Весь век наполен наш мученьем и тоскою, Ничто нас в жизни сей от бедства не спасет. О! смерть, в тебе одной ищу себе покою. —1761

Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova 55 Sonnet5 O mortal, why do you desire a long life? Even in a short life you must endure enough misfortune. We are born in tears, then grow up submissive to power. In youthful days one feels vexation. The days flow by like the currents of a rapid river— Suddenly various passions begin to agitate your spirit. Tormented, you will now desire a different lot, That fate might block the path to misfortune and woe. Suddenly old age destroys all your desires. Illnesses add to misfortune and sadness; Along with the days, they carry away hope. Our whole lives are filled with torment and melancholy. Nothing in this life can save us from misfortune. O death! In you alone I seek peace. —1761

56 Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova Стансы Взирая на поля, на злачные луга, На рощи, на цветы, на холмы и на горы, На тихой ток реки, на желтые брега, Везде приятность зрю, куда ни кину взоры. Спокойный, кажется, всему назначен век: Вздыхает и грустит лишь только человек. В восходе солнечном небесеной зрится царь; Он жизнь дает всему, и все одушевляет; С веселием его встречает кажда тварь: Единой человек смущенной вид являет; С началом дня его начнутся суеты. Страдаешь, человек, в Природе только ты! Когда цветы живит вечерняя роса, Зефиры резвые с листочками играют; Когда Природы всей является краса, Согласной птички хор когда приготовляют, Вздыхает и тогда единной человек, В заботе и трудах, что скоро день протек. С покровом темным ночь спокойство пролиет, Настанет тишина, умолкнет все в Природе; Жизнь новую всему приятной сон дает; Былинка каждая покоится в свободе: Единой человек вздыхает и тогда; Желанья тщетныя тягчат его всегда. Чтож значишь, человек, в пространном мире сем? Подвластно все тебе, но ты всегда вздыхаешь; Не утешаешься в Природе ты ни чем; Желаний, чувств своих ни чем не насыщаешь. Конечно для тебя другой настанет век, Где будешь ты велик и щастлив, человек! —1796

Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova 57 Stanzas6 Gazing at the fields, the golden meadows, The groves, the flowers, the hills, and mountains, The river’s gentle current, the yellow shores— No matter where I cast my gaze, I see pleasantness. It seems everything has been appointed a peaceful life. Only man sighs and grieves. The heavenly King is seen in the sunrise. He gives life to all and animates all. All creatures meet him with joy. Only man reveals a troubled aspect. From the start of his days the vanities commence. Man, you alone suffer in Nature! When the flowers are refreshed by the evening dew; When the frolicking zephyrs play with delicate young leaves; When Nature’s full beauty is revealed; When the birds prepare a harmonious choir; Even then man alone sighs That in his worries and labor the day has quickly passed. Night, with its soft black cover, will spread tranquility. Quiet will come; everything in Nature will fall silent. Pleasant dreams give everything a new life. Each blade of grass rests freely. Man alone sighs even then. Vain desires forever burden him. Man, what meaning do you have in this wide world? Everything is subject to you, yet you always sigh. You find no comfort in Nature. Nothing can sate your desires and feelings. Of course, for you, another age will come Where, Man, you will be great and happy! —1796

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova (1747–after 1817) Introduction Princess Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova, the most prolific Russian woman poet of her day, published lyric poems, celebratory odes to the royal family, and two longer works: Polion, or Τhe Misanthrope Enlightened (1774) and Heroides (“heroines” in ancient Greek) (1777), poems imitating the epistolary works of Ovid of the same title in which mythological heroines bemoan their mistreatment at the hands of their lovers. Urusova was born in 1747 to Prince Sergei Vasil’evich Urusov, governor of Vologodsk, and Princess Irina Danilovna Urusova (née Princess Drutskaia-Sokolinskaia).1 Unfortunately, no information about her education has survived, and little is known about her early works. We do know that when her first known works appeared, N. I. Novikov’s Dictionary already praised her “beautiful elegies, songs, and other small poems, which merit praise for their pure style, tenderness, and pleasant expression.”2 Urusova’s poems were likely known in manuscript form among the small circle of literary families as early as the 1760s. Like her contemporaries Kniazhnina and Kheraskova, Urusova’s writing benefited from familial patronage: A cousin of Mikhail M. Kheraskov, she lived for a time with him and his wife, the poet Elizaveta Kheraskova, and actively participated in their literary gatherings.3 Another frequent guest at the Kheraskovs’ home was G. R. Derzhavin, 1. Urusova appears in several dictionaries and catalogues of eighteenth-century Russian writers, including, most recently, Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Urusova, Ekaterina Sergeevna,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=10379. See also Russov, Bibliograficheskii katalog, 43; Makarov, “Kniazhna Katerina Sergeevna Urusova,” 98–100; Golitsyn, Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 254; and Ledkovsky, Dictionary of Russian Women Writers, 683–84. 2. Novikov, Opyt istoricheskago slovaria, 358. The earliest extant published poem by Urusova is a verse epistle dedicated to V. D. Eropkin. The Russian text can be found in Göpfert and Fainshtein, Predstatel’nitsy muz, 155–59. 3. See Rosslyn, “Making Their Way into Print,” 416. Rosslyn also notes that Kheraskova may have been a cousin of the poet Aleksandra Magnitskaia, whose work appears in this volume.

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60 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova who eventually became the most famous Russian poet of the eighteenth century. An oft-repeated anecdote, recorded by Derzhavin himself, states that when a marriage match with Urusova was suggested, he exclaimed: “If she writes and I scribble, then we’ll forget everything and there will be nobody to cook the cabbage soup.”4 Derzhavin eventually settled happily with a wife who seemed largely content to leave the writing to him.5 Urusova, on the other hand, never married. Her freedom from “cooking the cabbage soup” may explain why—unusual among her female contemporaries—she remained productive for so many years. Derzhavin eventually became a patron of sorts to Urusova. In 1811, three women—Urusova, Anna Petrovna Bunina, and Anna Alekseevna Volkova—were inducted as honorary members of the literary group Lovers of the Russian Word, which Derzhavin helped found.6 Evidence of his interest in her literary career can be found in the Derzhavins’ correspondence with Urusova, the presence of her works in his archive, and her name listed among those to whom he wished to send his compositions.7 Urusova’s oeuvre, which spans from the early 1770s to the 1810s, reveals an increasing confidence in her own gifts tempered by a growing introversion and melancholy that reflects general literary trends. One of her first published poems, “To Mikhail Matveevich Kheraskov” (1773), presented below, was published in the Old and the New (Starina i novizna) as part of a friendly poetic exchange with her illustrious cousin Kheraskov. He initiates the conversation in a poem that directly precedes Urusova’s, which functions as both an epistle on poetry—a rumination on various genres—and a set of guidelines addressed specifically to her. Kheraskov opens as if continuing a private conversation, as he may well have been doing: “You wish to know the path/To the beautiful Muses’ temple;/To draw healing /Water from the 4. Bennett, “Parnassian Sisters of Derzhavin’s Acquaintance,” 250. 5. In his article on Kheraskova’s life and work, Göpfert (“Observations on the Life and Work,” 179) provides evidence for a personal and literary friendship connecting Kheraskova, Urusova, and Derzhavin’s wife, Ekaterina Iakovlevna Derzhavina. 6. Ibid., 255. For more on Lovers of the Russian Word and its relationship to women writers, see Rosslyn, Anna Bunina, 69–75. 7. Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Kheraskova, Elizaveta Vasil’evna,” http://www. pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=10381.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 61 clear streams.” Although Kheraskov then alludes to his cousin’s gender by complimenting her beauty and sensibility, he offers a refreshingly broad range of possibilities for her poetic gifts. Rather than limiting her to the tender pastoral genres—though he does include them—he suggests that she could write epic verse like Homer, sing the glory of Russia like M. V. Lomonosov, enlighten her readers with didactic verse, and—unheard of for a woman—write for the stage as a tragedian (“following in Melpomene’s footsteps”) or a comedian (“Thalia gives us the lesson”). Ultimately, Kheraskov seems less concerned with specific genres than with good writing.8 To be understood properly, Urusova’s “To Mikhail Matveevich Kheraskov” should be read as a rejoinder to Kheraskov. Not only does her response immediately follow his poem, but it adheres to the same structure: iambic tetrameter with alternating feminine and masculine rhyme. This metrical and rhythmic link allows the two works to be read as an integrated whole, harkening back to the Russian tradition of verse “conversations,” which began with Lomonosov’s “Conversation with Anacreon.”9 Indeed, the exchange between Kheraskov and Urusova clearly echoes Lomonosov, with Kheraskov in the role of Anacreon, offering guidance, and Urusova in Lomonosov’s role as the poet who cannot accept well-intentioned advice and feels called toward the epic and the ode. Keeping in mind this connection to Lomonosov, we should resist the temptation to focus on gender in Kheraskov’s counsel. Yes, he encourages Urusova to follow Sappho, but Sappho represents not only “woman poet” but also Anacreontic verse (tender love poetry) more generally. As Lomonosov demonstrates, men too agonized over “tender” versus “triumphant” genres. Perhaps more to the point, Kheraskov’s poem does not restrict Urusova to the role of Sappho or Anacreon, as one might expect, but allows her myriad possibilities. 8. Mikhail Kheraskov, “Knzhn Ktrn Srgvn Rsv,” Starina i novizna 2 (1773): 199–203. The title is a cryptographic dedication to Urusova. Although the poem is unsigned, Urusova’s immediate response clearly identifies Kheraskov as the author. 9. See M. V. Lomonsov, “Razgovor s Anakreonom,” which has been dated between 1756 and 1761, in Izbrannye proizvedeniia (Leningrad: Sovetskii pisatel’, 1986), 269–74. The exchange between Kheraskov and Urusova also testifies to the Kheraskov group’s developing interest in the friendly epistle (druzheskoe poslanie). See Davydov, “Zhanr druzheskogo poslaniia v poezii M. M. Kheraskova,” 92–101.

62 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Urusova was thirty years old at the time her response to Kheraskov appeared in print. Despite that relatively advanced age, she was just embarking on a literary career. Perhaps it had become obvious that she was not going to marry and was thus prepared to formally dedicate her life to poetry. Now she needed to decide which kind of poetry she would compose; which kind of poet she would become—no easy task for a woman in a nascent literary culture in which even the men were forced to ask these same tough questions as they searched for poetic models. Urusova begins by thanking him for illuminating her path to Parnassus. Then, with an emphasis on the epic that she sustains throughout, she acknowledges that he taught her to tune her “resounding lyre.” At the time Kheraskov was still several years away from publishing his Rossiada but had recently earned acclaim with his epic poem The Battle of Chesma (Chesmesskii boi), which Urusova references. Given Kheraskov’s emerging reputation as Russia’s Homer as well as Urusova’s embrace of epic throughout this poem, we should take seriously her proclaimed dedication to that high-status genre. Throughout the 1770s Urusova manages to quietly defy expectations for women writers, trying her hand at the highest genres—epic and tragedy—even as she appears to limit herself demurely to appropriately feminine topics like love and sociability. Oddly enough, almost immediately following the 1773 poem to Kheraskov in which she appears disinclined to follow in Sappho’s footsteps and “sing love songs,” Urusova undertook two major works that, each in its own way, did precisely that. Polion, or The Misanthrope Enlightened and the series of nine heroides share a concern with the role of the feminine in Russian culture and an exploration of female love. Urusova no longer resists attempts to classify her as a “Russian Sappho.” In the invocation to the Muses preceding the Heroides she proudly strives after the new “Sapphos and de la Suzes.” Of course the question remains whether she merely adopts the female pose that her male mentors envisioned or perhaps embraces this new identity in order to challenge the accepted role of women in Russian culture. Polion was the first lengthy poem published by a Russian woman. Urusova includes in her title the generic marker “poema,” the term for verse epic, thus emphasizing the connection to that high genre. Accordingly, Polion is divided into five cantos, with the first canto

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 63 serving as an invocation to the Muses. Throughout, Urusova employs iambic hexameter with obligatory caesura, which was a popular meter at the time for songs and elegies as well as epic verse. There is no stanzaic division; each canto appears as one long stanza in alternating masculine and feminine rhymed couplets. Polion was apparently published anonymously, but the author’s identity was clearly known to readers.10 As Judith Vowles notes, with the poem’s title Urusova may offer a playful clue to her intentions. In Russian, pol is the word for “sex” or “gender”; i means “and,” while on means “he.” Thus, the poem’s title in Russian refers not only to the eponymous hero, Polion, but could be read as “The Sex and He” (Pol i on). Succinctly characterizing Polion as “an allegory in five cantos describing a young man’s corruption by false learning and his redemption by a feminine spirit,” Vowles frames it as a defiant response to the literary men who considered the presence of women in culture a corrupting force. She suggests that Polion polemicizes with V. K. Trediakovsky’s Telemakhida (itself a reworking of François Fénelon’s famous Les Aventures de Télémaque [1699]), offering in place of that work’s emphasis on masculine independence and liberation from the clutches of the feminine, an “eloquent defense of the civilizing power of women and love in Russian culture.”11 Marcus Levitt has uncovered another important subtext, reading Polion as the first Russian response to the Enlightenment debate surrounding Rousseau’s “Letter 10. The definitive database of eighteenth-century Russian publications at the Russian National Library lists Urusova as the author: Russkaia kniga grazhdanskoi pechati XVIII v. v fondakh bibliotek RF (1708–1800) http://www.nlr.ru/rlin/ruslbr_v2.php?database=RLINXVIII. Nonetheless, the original 1774 edition of the poem held at the Russian National Library in St.  Petersburg includes her name only penciled in on the cover. Further suggesting that Polion might have appeared anonymously is a 1777 review of her Heroides, which was indeed published anonymously. The reviewer never identifies Urusova, but praises the “authoress,” noting that this “new de la Suze” is the same woman who composed Polion, “which has already earned praise and respect from our best poets.” Review of Iroidy muzam posveshchennyia, Sanktpeterburgskiia uchenyia vedomosti na 1777 god N. I. Novikova, 2d ed. (St. Petersburg: A. N. Neustroev, 1873): 175. The review is signed only “N.,” so it is likely that it was written by Novikov himself. 11. Vowles, “ ‘Feminization’ of Russian Literature,” 45. Vowles offers a well-argued discussion of Polion as a reworking of the Telemachus myth, which was enjoying popularity in Russia as the result of to Trediakovsky’s translation.

64 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova to d’Alembert on the Theater,” which was understood by many as an attack on women’s participation in society.12 Although Urusova’s Polion predates the rise of N. M. Karamzin and Russian Sentimentalism by a good two decades, her emphasis on the benevolent influence of feminine love and sociability anticipates the Sentimentalist movement, when women—their language and their presumed capacity for “natural” feeling and virtue—would come to occupy center stage. Yet this did not necessarily translate into an equal relationship between women writers and the men who accorded new respect to traditionally “feminine” emotions and values.13 As Gitta Hammarberg notes, during the “feminization” of Russian letters, “women were treasured for what they presumably lacked: learning, old-fashioned education, respected jobs in government, law, business, etc.”14 The Sentimentalists were primarily interested in the woman as muse or as a conduit to improved understanding of their own (male) selves.15 As if sensing this coming shift in masculine and feminine values, in her narrative poems Urusova obliquely resists masculine definitions. She accepts the “feminine” pastoral landscape in Polion but only as a stage for engaging in the “masculine” realm of contemporary 12. Levitt ultimately considers Urusova as in favor of a sociability that includes women, but he warns against a potentially anachronistic reading of her work as a protofeminist tract in favor of women writers. He concludes that Urusova “frames her argument, as well as her identity as a writer, fully within an almost entirely male-defined tradition, but one in which the very fact of its being male-defined was not a problem.” Levitt, “Polemic with Rousseau,” 600. 13. Referring to Dashkova’s rejection of accepted “feminine” roles for writers at the time, Vowles (“ ‘Feminization’ of Russian Literature,” 40) claims that “other women, like the poet Ekaterina Urusova, happily embraced that ideal as a fruitful way of imagining their poetic vocation.” 14. Hammarberg, “Feminine Chronotope,” 120. Rosslyn (“Making Their Way into Print,” 413) similarly sees the growing appreciation, in the 1790s, of the private sphere as a “propitious circumstance” for women’s writing. For a less sanguine view of the feminine in Sentimentalism, see Heyder and Rosenholm, “Feminisation as Functionalisation,” 51–71. That article polemicizes with Hammarberg and Rosslyn, arguing that during Sentimentalism women were not empowered by the feminization of Russian literature but were in fact used by Russian men, whose masculinity remained hegemonic throughout the era. 15. Hammarberg emphasizes the often patronizing intentions and results of men who published or critiqued women’s writing. See Hammarberg, “Reading à la Mode,” and idem, “Women, Critics, and Women Critics,” 187–207.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 65 Enlightenment intellectual debates over sociability, education, and the theater.16 Similarly, although her Heroides speak of love, they do not present sweet, virtuous ladies. Her Russianized versions of Ovid’s heroines appear indecorously outspoken and half-crazed from sexual passion.17 If Polion addresses questions of gender obliquely and gently, the cycle of Heroides, published three years later, can be read as a comparatively bold assertion of female identity.18 Polion imagined love in an abstract, pastoral landscape, complete with Cupid and idealized, but distinctly noncarnal, love between pure shepherds and shepherdesses. A woman’s love, the poem tells us, will soften and polish the misanthropic male, who is too engrossed in scientific tomes to derive pleasure from the society of refined ladies. The Heroides also explores women’s love, but with the notable exception of “Promest to a Friend” (Promest k drugu), they do not treat love as a gentle civilizing force. They investigate female passion: the psychological mechanism of passion and its often destructive results rather than the beneficial effect of female nurturing. In the Heroides women agonize over abandonment by male lovers. Just as significantly, Urusova’s Heroides marks her entry into the masculine realm of tragedian since the Heroides is composed of, in essence, a series of tragic soliloquies. The title Heroides clearly evokes Ovid’s collection of verse epistles by the same name in which famous women of antiquity address their lovers. Upon closer inspection, however, it becomes clear that beyond the basic theme of women scorned or young love interrupted 16. Levitt (“Polemic with Rousseau”) reads Polion as the first Russian response to Rousseau’s 1758 “Letter to D’Alembert on the Theater.” It should be noted that Levitt himself does not read Urusova’s poem as touching upon gender debates, suggesting instead that by publishing it anonymously, Urusova did not intend it to be read as the work of a women. 17. No published articles or studies of Urusova’s Heroides have appeared. In an unpublished paper, Andrew Khan contextualizes Heroides as a unique Russian response to the European vogue for the “distressed heroines” of Ovid’s Heroides, in which women’s “turmoil and passion” lag behind “the more balanced affective language of sentimentalism of the last third of the century.” Kahn (“Desire and Transgression in Urusova’s Imitations of Ovid ”) argues that in the proem to the Heroides “Urusova explicitly stakes the claim for poetic authority on her gender” (5), adding later that “for Urusova, the female poet who writes about abandoned women commits an act of self definition and cultural definition” (6). 18. Ibid.

66 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova by filial duty, Urusova’s text can hardly be read as a translation or even a loose adaptation of Ovid. Of the nine letters, five unfold on the pastoral landscape already familiar from Polion, three are based in ancient Russian history, and two offer supplemental monologues to existing Russian tragedies.19 Thus, putting Ovid aside, it perhaps makes more sense to read Urusova’s work as a response to the appearance of heroides in Russia via France. By the early 1760s Russian poets had begun publishing dramatic monologues buttressed by scholarly notes that, just like Urusova’s footnotes, reference the original sources from which they were drawn. The notes did not provide detailed plot reviews, likely because readers were presumably already familiar with these plays.20 Among the early practitioners of this genre were Urusova’s mentor, Kheraskov, and the father of the Russian theater, A. P. Sumarokov.21 By the 1770s, they and other well-known poetplaywrights began to publish such dramatic monologues labeled as heroides. It is ironic that Urusova is the only Russian woman known to have published in this genre, since the narrator/subject is almost always female.22 The Heroides can be read as a long-delayed response to Kheraskov’s poetic tutelage. Urusova now accepts his counsel to explore love in a pastoral setting but also seizes the occasion to try 19. Two of the poems in the cycle are set in a vague pastoral locus amoenus, “Promest to a Friend” and “Kliada.” Three others, “Zeida to Leander” and the epistles exchanged between Ophira and Medor, sound more at home on the stage. A contemporary review of the Heroides notes that all five are in fact “imagined” (vymyshlennye) by the author, whereas the remaining poems in the cycle are adapted from specific Russian tragedies or moments in Russian history. See the review of Iroidy muzam posveshchennyia cited in note 10. For specifics about the plays and events inspiring her work, see Urusova’s own notes to the Heroides. 20. For a discussion of these early dramatic monologues and the evolution of the genre of heroides from the elegy, see Gukovskii, Russkaia poeziia XVIII veka, 82–92. On the connection between the Russian sonnet, with its increasing demand for situational context, and the heroides, see Berdnikov, Schastlivyi feniks, 90–91. 21. See Sumarokov’s two 1768 heroides, “Zavlokh k Osnel’de” and “Osnel’da k Zavlokhu,” which directly reference his own 1747 tragedy, Khorev. Sumarokov, Izbrannye proizvedeniia, 165–68. Kheraskov published three poems subsequently characterized as heroides, including “Ariadne to Theseus” (1763), inspired by Ovid’s epistle of the same name in his Heroides. 22. As Rosslyn (“Mar’ya Vasil’evna Sushkova,” 102–3) notes, Maria Sushkova, whose works appear in this volume, was said to have composed heroides, but there are no known extant works.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 67 her hand at tragedy, which, it will be recalled, he recommends: “If your heart is enraged /by common misfortunes/Step forward bravely with your dagger, /Following in Melpomene’s footsteps.”23 In a footnote Urusova acknowledges her debt to tragedy, explaining that the exchanges between Darius and Fedima are based on The False Smerdis (1769) by the playwright A. A. Rzhevskii. She similarly acknowledges A. V. Khrapovitskii’s tragedy Idamant as inspiring Ol’fena’s epistle to Merion. Although she does not acknowledge her source for Rogneda’s epistle to Vladimir, she likely borrowed from Fedor P. Kliucharev’s tragedy, Vladimir the Great (Vladimir Velikii).”24 Thus, Urusova manages to publish as a tragedian at a time when women could not write for the stage. The epic and the tragedy, as the highest genres, were the preserve of men. Yet with Polion and the Heroides, Urusova breaks through those barriers on the sly.25 Heroides and Polion share a basic format: a verse epistle composed of one long stanza of iambic hexameter with obligatory caesura and couplets of alternating feminine and masculine rhyme. Borrowed from French poetry, this meter had become standard across a range of genres in the Russian eighteenth century and was known as the Russian Alexandrine. Perhaps more significantly, this form, which had been popular in songs, elegies, and other light verse, now became increasingly identified with the high genres of epic and tragedy. For reasons still unknown, Urusova ceased publishing for about a decade following Polion and the Heroides, reemerging in the 1790s with several short lyric poems and a few odes to the royal family. In a 1786 letter to Derzhavin’s wife, Ekaterina I. Derzhavina, Urusova alludes to her decision to abandon writing: 23. Kheraskov, “Knzhn Ktrn Srgvn Rsv,” 203. 24. Although Kliucharev’s tragedy was initially published two years after Urusova’s Heroides, in 1779, it was likely staged earlier and could have inspired her poem. For Kliucharev’s biography, see Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Kliucharev, Fedor Petrovich,” http:// www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=1099. For his play, see Vladimir Velikii,” Rossisskii featr ili polnoe sobranie vsekh rossiiskhikh featral’nykh sochinenii (St. Petersburg: Tipografiia Imperatorskoi Akademii Nauk, 1787), 6: 81–144. 25. Catherine II’s prolific work as a playwright in the 1780s began in earnest a good decade after the publication of Urusova’s Heroides and was primarily comedic in nature. At Catherine’s request, Princess Ekaterina Dashkova also published a comedy, Toisokov, in 1786. See O’Malley, Dramatic Works of Catherine the Great.

68 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova I see you have a poem, the composition of which does honor to our sex. I much enjoyed reading the poem you gave me; I wish that familiarity with the Muses would deepen among our sex. Despite the fact that I have broken company with the Muses, I wish that others would establish bonds with them; but it remains for me only to rejoice and admire the creations of my Parnassian sisters.26 Although this note does little to explain Urusova’s decision, it does confirm her position as the first Russian to openly support and seek camaraderie among women writers. From her “Invocation to the Muses” in the Heroides to her friendship with other poets in this volume— Kheraskova, Magnitskaia, and Turchaninova—Urusova dares imagine a larger role in literary life not just for herself but for all women writers.27 Urusova’s initial return to literary activity was apparently sparked by sincere gratitude to the newly crowned Emperor Paul for releasing her friends from exile—the very friends whose absence she mourned in “Friendship,” which will be discussed in detail below. In an unusually personal celebratory ode, Urusova opens by explaining her decision to resume writing: I wished to bid farewell to the Muses forever, And long had my lyre been abandoned. I thought I would no longer write poetry. But can one remain silent, seeing PAUL on the Throne?28 26. Urusova, “Ot kniazhni Urusovoi iulia 1786” in Sochineniia Derzhavina, 521. 27. See the individual author introductions on Kheraskova, Magnitskaia, and Turchaninova. Sandra Bennett similarly suggests that Urusova’s letter to Derzhavina indicates her “gendered sense of poetic identity” and her unusual expression of “sisterhood” among female poets. Bennett, “ ‘Parnassian Sisters’ of Derzhavin’s Acquaintance,” 251. 28. Urusova, Serdechnyie chuvstva blagodarnosti izlivaemyia pred Prestolom ego Imperatorskago Velichestva Pavla Pervago (St. Petersburg: Tipografiia I. K. Shnora, 1798), 278. This ode, published as a separate pamphlet, must belong to a larger series, given the pagination. It is found only in the Manuscript Division of the Russian National Library, St. Petersburg, f. 247, t. 22, no. 48. Kochetkova characterizes this poem as departing from the typical panegyric both in its brevity and its “chamber” quality. Kochetkova, “Kniazhna Urusova i ee literaturnye sobesedniki,” 103.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 69 In this later period she signed her work openly. Four of the late poems, translated below, appeared in the 1796 volume of Nikolai Karamzin’s Sentimentalist journal Aonids: “Spring,” “Friendship,” “The Brook,” and “Solitary Hours.” Betraying a distinct evolution from the neoclassical models of Polion and the Heroides toward the Sentimental cult of friendship and feeling, Urusova nonetheless echoed the Masonic solemnity of her friend, Kheraskova, who also published in Karamzin’s journal. In fact, Urusova’s final years were marked by reflections on her stubborn attachment to earthly rather than spiritual pleasures, as indicated by her “To Anna Aleks. Turchaninova” (K Anne Aleks. Turchaninovoi) and her elegiac final publication, “My Seventieth Year” (Moi semidesiatyi god). In the first of Urusova’s lyric poems translated here, “Spring” (Vesna), she dispenses with the iambic hexameter of Polion and the Heroides, opting instead for a trochaic tetrameter with alternating feminine and masculine rhyme, which was most popular in light poetry, including work intended to be set to music. Moreover, trochaic meters conveyed a certain “folksiness” appropriate to this elegiac rumination on lost youth.29 That same year Urusova published “Friendship” and again turned to trochaic tetrameter, now with four four-line stanzas in AbAb rhyme scheme, with b indicating repetition of a single word at the end of each stanza: druzei (“friends”). The first four stanzas conclude with the line “Net zdes’, net tvoikh druzei” (They’re not here, not here, your friends). Halfway through the poem that refrain evolves; the final four stanzas each conclude with a slight variation that nonetheless maintains the rhymed word druzei in final position: “Net s toboi tvoikh druzei” (They’re not here with you, your friends), “Bez moikh terpliu druzei” (I endure without my friends), “Vse protivno bez druzei” (Nothing is right without my friends), and “Net so mnoi moikh druzei” (They’re not here with me, my friends). As has been well documented, that poem was intended for Urusova’s dear friend, Varvara A. Trubetskaia and her husband (Urusova’s cousin), Nikolai N. Trubetskoi, who were in exile at that time. As a Freemason and a disciple of Novikov, Trubetskoi had been punished in the fallout of Novikov’s arrest and banished to his distant estate near Voronezh, where he was nonetheless permitted to receive letters 29. Scherr, Russian Poetry, 70.

70 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova and books. Upon receiving the volume of Aonids, which included Urusova’s “Friendship,” Varvara understood that it was addressed to her and penned a poetic response that concludes with the lines, “Your friends are not there with you/But always live within you.”30 Urusova’s “The Brook” (Ruchei) also appeared in Karamzin’s Aonids in 1796 at the height of Russian Sentimentalism. It should be read with an eye to the developing motif of the “brook” in Russian women’s poetry. Inspired by Mme Deshoulières’s “Le ruisseau,” the metaphor of the brook, or small stream, became, according to Ursula Stohler, “a means for women to ponder the ephemeral nature of life.”31 Once again using meter to signal light verse, Urusova employs iambic trimeter with alternating feminine and masculine rhyme. She returns to that same form three years later in “From the Authoress of ‘The Brook’: A Response to a Response” (1799). Here she reflects on her earlier poem and humbly acknowledges her own spiritual failings. Despite its brevity, Urusova’s “Solitary Hours” (Uedinennye chasy) adheres to the accepted structure for the eighteenth-century Russian ode: ten-line stanzas of iambic tetrameter with a rhyme scheme of AbAbCCdEEd. At this late date, strict genre boundaries were disintegrating, making it all the more striking that Urusova chose to mark this work clearly as an ode. Here, the emphasis on the vanity of worldly pleasures and pursuits recalls Kheraskova’s 1760 “Stanzas.” Unlike Kheraskova, however, Urusova finds solace not in death but rather in her communion with the Muses, that is, her writing. In “Song of the Steppe” (Step’naia pesn’) Urusova hints at passing the mantle to a new generation of women poets, thus confirming the support for her “Parnassian sisters” expressed in the invocation to the Heroides, correspondence with Derzhavina, and literary dialogues with Kheraskov and Turchaninova. In a footnote to “Song of the Steppe,” Urusova mentions “three shepherdesses” as her audience, identifying them only by their initials. Their identities remain a mystery, although they were presumably close friends or family members who also wrote

30. See the volume introduction for a discussion of Catherine II’s reactionary turn following the French Revolution and Novikov’s arrest. For more on the context surrounding Urusova’s “Friendship” see Kochetkova, “Kniazhna Urusova i ee literaturnye sobesedniki,” 100–101. 31. Stohler, “Mar’ia Pospelova, Mar’ia Bolotnikova, and Anna Naumova,” 91–92.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 71 verse.32 The “Song of the Steppe” combines the pastoral setting familiar from Polion—replete with shepherdesses and naiads—with the realworld specificity of St. Petersburg. As in “Solitary Hours,” the poet finds herself alone, far removed from worldly amusements, and longing for her friends in the capital. Urusova here adopts the same light form she employed in her two poems on the brook—a playful iambic trimeter with alternating feminine and masculine rhymes. The final two poems here belong to Urusova’s later years, when she poignantly reflects on her life, regretting her inability to adopt a deeper spirituality. The most striking example of this self-critique appears in an unpublished polemical response to Turchaninova, whose work appears later in this volume. Among the hand-copied texts in Derzhavin’s archive are several poems by Turchaninova followed by Urusova’s poetic response, “To Anna Aleksandr. Turchaninova.” Written in iambic hexameter with a rhyme scheme of aBBa, Urusova condemns her inability to follow Turchaninova’s model of spiritual depth and focus on the afterlife. Of course, the poem could easily be read in quite the opposite vein, as a veiled critique of Turchaninova’s overzealous attention to death and her rejection of life’s joys. Urusova reflects back on her life in one of her last known publications, “My Seventieth Year” (Moi semidesiatyi god). As Kochetkova notes, this poem appeared in 1816, the same year Urusova’s beloved friend and mentor Derzhavin passed away.33 His death surely inclined her toward melancholy as she contemplated her impending “seventieth year” and the death that would soon follow. Written in the same meter and rhyme scheme as the poem to Turchaninova, this farewell piece is redolent with biblical phrasing and imagery, as she holds out hope that even now, in the twilight of life, she can receive God’s truth and be saved. There is something truly touching about these personal reflections, making this poem a fitting conclusion to Urusova’s long and varied literary career. 32. In her article on Urusova’s literary circle, Kochetkova suggests that identification of the three “shepherdesses’ is difficult because the initials most likely reference not their real names, but rather their invented, “shepherdess” names. She suggests that Natalia Leont’evna Magnitskaia, whose work appears in this volume, may have been one of the addressees. Kochetkova, “Kniazhna Urusova i ee literaturnye sobesedniki,” 98. 33. Ibid., 94.

72 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Михаилу Матвеевичу Хераскову Ты путь мне открываешь Взнестися на Парнас И строить научаешь Гремящей лиры глас. Стези мне те приятны, Где создан Музам храм; Их песни нежны, внятны, Они прелестны нам. Но к музам устремиться С успехом я не льщусь, Кастальских вод напиться Робею и страшусь. Страшусь нестройным гласом Богов я прогневить, Гонима всем Парнасом, Могу за дерзость быть. Когдаж Парнаски боги Мой разум просветят, И мне во храм дороги Явити захотят. Тогда мне данну лиру Я с сердцем соглашу, Богов представлю миру, Их славу опишу. Потом возьму примеры Героев как поют, Росския Гомеры Мне помощь подадут.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 73 To Mikhail Matveevich Kheraskov1 You open the way for me To ascend Parnassus2 And teach me to tune The resounding lyre. I find pleasing that path Where the Muses’ temple stands. Their songs are tender and clear; We find them charming. But I do not deceive myself That I can successfully attain the Muses. I am too timid and fearful To slake my thirst in Castalian waters.3 I fear my discordant voice Would enrage the gods; That all Parnassus would pursue me For my temerity. If the Parnassian gods Should enlighten my mind And wish to reveal to me The road to the temple Then I will attune my heart To the lyre granted me. I will present the gods to the world; I will depict their glory. Then I will follow their model Of singing heroes. The Russian Homers4 Will offer their help.

74 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Гомеру подражати, Х** мне велишь. И славы той искати, Котору в нем ты зришь. Но лира порученна Тебе от Муз отца, Не меньше возвышенна, К безсмертию венца. Гремящею трубою Тобой воспет Герой; Гомер вспевал нам Трою, Ты пел Чесмесский бой. Ты лавром увенчати Героев тщился там; Позволь мне подражати Торжественным стихам. Велишь с Анакреоном Любовны песни петь, Играя с Купидоном, Мне нежности иметь. Стихи любви слагати Мне склонность не дана, Велит их мне писати Забава лишь одна. Сапфону обличенну В лавровые цветы, Венцами украшенну Изображаешь ты. Велишь мне в след стремиться За нею на Парнасс;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 75 Kh**, you bid me Imitate Homer And seek the glory That you see in him.5 But the lyre entrusted to you By the Muses’ father Is no less lofty An immortal crown. With a resounding trumpet You extolled a hero. Homer extolled Troy for us; You sang the Battle of Chesma.6 You aspired to crown Heroes in laurels there. Allow me to imitate Your triumphant verse. You bid me sing love songs With Anacreon;7 To be tender, Playing with Cupid.8 I am not inclined To compose love poems. Mere amusement Bids me write them. You portray Sappho displayed In laurel flowers; Adorned in wreathes.9 You bid me follow in her footsteps To Parnassus.

76 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Возможноль не плениться Сапфонин слыша глас. Хочу ей подражати, К ней мысль моя летит; Но с нею воспевати Мне дар мой не велит. Не может он сравняться Со нежностью ея, И станет отличаться Нестройна песнь моя. Но дух мой воспалился Х** песни петь, Всей силой устремился К Парнассу возлететь. Стихи твои вещают Приятность всех забав, И сердце восхищают, Мне правила подав. Я лиру взять дерзаю, Любя ея сверх мер, Парнасса досязаю, Х** мне пример. —1773

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 77 Can one fail to be captivated By Sappho’s voice? I wish to imitate her; My thoughts soar toward her; But my gift does not bid me Sing with her. It cannot compare With her tenderness And my discordant song Would soon be noted. But my spirit is inspired To sing songs to Kh**.10 With all its strength it strives Toward Parnassus. Your verses proclaim The pleasantness of every amusement. And they delight my heart, Having given me the rule. Loving the lyre beyond measure, I dare take it. I attain Parnassus. Kh** is my model. —1773

78 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Полион, или просветившийся Нелюдим, Поема От Сочинительницы Сея Поемы Никогда бы не отважилась я издать в свет сего моего творения, ежели бы руководство, советы, и некоторыя поправки, одного известнаго в России Сочинителя, мне к тому не вспомоществовали. Я ласкаю себя надеждою, что мои читатели, уважая пол мой, и первыя мои опыты в роде сего песнословия, могут извинить находящияся здесь погрешности: чем ободрять робкую Мусу мою, к дальным упражнениям. Песнь первая Пою суровый нрав, учений суету, Любови торжество, волшебну красоту. Поведай Муса мне, в какое заблужденье, Науки ложныя ввергают разсужденье; Оне сияние суля и свет уму, Стезями трудными влекут его в тьму; Однако нас любовь нередко просвещает, И наши грубости мягчит и укрощает. Любовь! хотя и строг, приятен твой закон, Тобою стал учен и щастлив Полион. В цветущей младости довольствуясь богатством, Природной красотой и юности приятством, От света удален, он мысли возмутил: Ученью грубому свой разум посвятил. Зеленых ветвь древес когда она взрастает, Незрелых наших лет Весну изображает; Не может никогда недвижимо стоять, И тихий ветр ее удобен колебать, В которую страну Зефир в листы ни веет, Туда младая ветвь склонение имеет; Подобно разум наш в начале наших лет, Склоняется, куда пример ни повлечет; Несправедливости бывает он покорен, И видя роскоши, противу их безпорен:

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 79 Polion, or The Misanthrope Enlightened: An Epic Poem11 From the Authoress of This Poem Never would I have ventured to publish in society this creation of mine, had the direction, counsel, and some corrections of a certain author, famous in Russia, not helped me.12 I flatter myself with the hope that my readers, respecting my sex13 and my first attempts in this genre of song,14 can forgive the errors found here and in so doing encourage my timid Muse toward future exercises. Canto One I sing of harsh temperament, of the vanity of learning, Of the triumph of love and of enchanting beauty. Muse, tell me, into what errors does False learning plunge our thinking? Promising our minds light15 and brilliance, It pulls us into darkness along difficult roads, Whereas love frequently enlightens us And softens and subdues our rudeness. Love! Though severe, your law is pleasant. Through you Polion became learned and happy. In the flower of youth, feeling content with wealth, With natural beauty, and with the pleasantness of youth, Removed from society, he troubled his thoughts: He dedicated his reason to rude learning. When love nurtures the green tree branches, She depicts the spring of our unripe years. She can never stand still. And even a gentle wind can sway her one way or the other. A young branch will incline In whichever direction Zephyr16 blows its leaves. In the same way, in our early years, our reason Inclines wherever example leads it: It may submit to injustice, And seeing luxuries, does not dispute them.

80 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Приемлет ложныя за правильны пути, Которыми нельзя спокойствия найти. Таков был Полион вступающий в ученье, Он чаял приобресть прямое просвещенье, Разсудка своего еще необуздав, Вручил, во власть другим и разум свой и нрав; Но молодость его примеры помрачили, И к общему вреду свирепствам научили: Тот храм,* в котором он к наукам приступал, Среди густых лесов под тенью гор стоял; Не открывалось там в полудни небо ясно, Живущих разуму казалось все согласно; Там слышан был всегда бурливых ветров бег; Туман кругом лежал; не таял вечно снег; К Премудрости идут кривыми там стезями, И света ищут здесь с закрытыми глазами. Там кажется вдали разрущенный олтарь: На нем потупя взор сидит науки царь, Науки ложныя, что разум затмевает, И вместо света тьму ночную открывает. Пред оным олтарем ужасный зрится вид! С кинжалом лютое Отмщение стоит, Одежду кровию имея обагренну, Слагает клеветы на Истину почтенну: Там Суеверия ужасный слышен глас, К мучительству оно готово каждый час. Там споры дышущи огнем, вокруг летают: Вражда и Ненависть меж ими обитают. Они сражаются нощь, день, и все часы: Держа в свирепости друг друга за власы. Там Зависть палицей стоит вооруженна, К погибели людей охотою разженна: Достоинства она и гонит и страшит, Ей Наглость подает и копие и щит. Там Рабство низкое приемлет виды Чести. * Под сим храмом и описанными здесь его преднадлежностями, изображается, грубое и неблагоразумное воспитание [author’s footnote].

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 81 It mistakes false paths, Along which peace cannot be found, for right ones. Such was Polion, entering into his studies. He thought he would attain true enlightenment. He had not yet harnessed his reason When he entrusted both his intellect and his morals to others’ power. But examples obscured his youth And, to his general detriment, taught him truculence. That temple† where he approached learning Stood amidst dense woods under the shadow of mountains. The clear sky did not appear there at midday. Everything seemed harmonious in the minds of the inhabitants. The rush of stormy winds could always be heard there. Fog settled all around; the snow never melted. They approached Wisdom along crooked paths And sought light with eyes closed. In the distance, a ruined altar appeared there. Upon it, with downcast eyes, sat the king of learning— Of false learning, which darkens reason And, instead of light, reveals the darkness of night. A horrible sight we saw before that altar! Fierce Vengeance stood with a sword. With clothes turned scarlet from blood, He cast aspersions upon venerable Truth. Superstition’s terrible voice could be heard there. He is always ready for torment. Arguments flew about, breathing fire. Enmity and Hatred dwelled among them. Savagely grabbing each other by the hair, They battled morning, noon, and night. There stood Envy, flanked by a regiment And inflamed by the pleasure of destroying people. She frightened and chased away Virtue. Insolence offered her a spike and shield. Base Slavery took on the guise of Honor. † This temple, as well as its characteristics described here, represents rude and imprudent upbringing [author’s footnote].

82 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Сей темный храм стрегут Притворство, Хитрость, Лести; Обман старается их силы подкреплять, И Правда к олтарю несмеет приступать. Там Гордость, дерзкую свою главу подьемлет, Разсудку здравому гнушаяся невнемлет, Златой пред олтарем порфирой облеклась, И с ложной Славою союзом сопреглась. Тщеславие, свой взор свирепый всюду мещет: Пред ним Незлобие бледнеет и трепещет, Имея смутный взор, растрепанны власы, Под рубищем, его затмилися красы. Бесстыдство Истину ногами попирает, Ее стенания и слезы презирает: Спокойствия для ней во храме тамо нет, И тщетно помощи она от неба ждет; Закрыты к небесам прямыя там дороги, Достигнуть чают их стоящи Астрологи, Которы познавать хотят великий свет, Счисляя взорами течение планет. Но только лишь они свой взор туда возводят, Сгустившись облака на их главы низходят, Скрывая бег Светил, являют мрак очам, И путь затворится ко светлым небесам. Природа прелести от них всегда скрывает, И жителей тех мест на веки забывает: Чем ищет тварей всех она одушевлять, Старается от них всечасно удалять. Там Флоры красоты казались умерщвленны, И тернием поля и рощи заглушенны. Зефир в кустарниках резвяся нелетал, Лилей и розы он в лугах нецеловал. Помона, своего там царства неимела, И вся земля вокруг под камнями хладела. Дремучия леса и горы видны там; Подобно было все ученью и ночам; Не ведали они сей прелести для взора, Когда багряная является Аврора,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 83 This dark temple is guarded by Pretense, Cunning, and Flattery. Deception tried to strengthen their forces And Truth dared not approach the altar. Pride lifted her impertinent head. Disdainful, she did not hear sound Reason. She clothed herself in golden porphyry before the altar And joined with false Glory. Vanity cast his fierce gaze all around: In his presence Humility turned pale and shuddered. With a troubled look and disheveled locks, Beneath tattered robes, his beauty was eclipsed. Shamelessness trampled Truth And disdained her moans and tears: There was no peace for her in that temple And in vain she awaited succor from heaven. There, direct paths to the heavens were closed. ’Tis possible to reach them—so believe the Astrologers Who wish to know this magnificent world, Counting with their gaze the planets’ paths. But as soon as they lift their eyes toward that place, The thickened clouds descend over their heads: Concealing the orbits of the Luminaries, they bring darkness to their eyes. The path to the shining heavens closes. Nature always conceals her beauty from The inhabitants of those places and forgets them. In seeking to protect all creatures, She distances them from those people. There, Flora’s beauty had withered And fields and groves were choked by weeds. Zephyr did not fly, frolicking amidst the shrubs, Nor kiss lilies and roses in the meadows. Pomona17 had no kingdom there. And all around the land grew cold beneath the stones. Dark forests and mountains could be seen. Everything was akin to nighttime and to learning. They knew not the eye’s delight When crimson Aurora18 appears

84 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И предвещает нам ближайщий Солнце свет; Прогнав ночную тень, к трудам людей зовет. Когда исчезнет тьма, Природа оживится, И тонкий луч земле на небесах явится; За оным следует всея природы Царь, Латонин светлый сын прельщать земную тварь. Сие светило дня, что землю озаряет, И с высоты небес на шар земный взирает, Премудрость мы Творца в котором познаем, Могущество его, как будто в книге чтем. Прекрасно Солнце, их жилищ не освещало; Или свое лице от оных отвращало, Прозрачный луч его непроникал в леса, И вечно меркнули над ними небеса. Там прелести всея Природы изчезали: Весенни красоты являться недерзали. Невнятен был для них приятный птичек глас, Который возхищать всегда удобен нас, И нежных горлиц там вздыхание невнятно; Журчание воды казалось неприятно. Повсюду мрак лежал, и грубый нрав людей Скрывая все нежности природы от очей. Там дикий крик Совы повсюду раздавался, Там вран под ветвями дубовыми скрывался; Не слышно пения там было соловьев: Лишь только шум древес и дикий зверский рев. Такия ужасы входящему встречались, И темныя умы лишь больше помрачались; Их толки и слова являлись как Луна, Котора то светла, то мрачных мест полна, То бледное лице в земной тени скрывает, То прибавляется, то вдруг и убывает. Там виды все не те: там груб и лих Зефир, Там спящим кажется божественный Омир, За баснословие стихи его приемлют, Ни важности его, ни истинне не внемлют, Не внятныя для них он песни воспевал,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 85 And augurs for us the Sun’s approaching light. She chases away the darkness of night and calls people to their labors. When darkness disappears, Nature comes alive And her slender ray in the heavens is revealed to the earth. After this follows the King of all nature, Latona’s19 bright son, to enchant earthly creation. This luminary of day lights up the earth And from the heights of heaven gazes down upon the earthly globe In which we recognize the wisdom of the Creator And his might, as if reading it in a book. The beautiful Sun did not illuminate their dwelling; Rather, it turned its face from them. Its translucent rays did not penetrate the forest And the skies grew ever dim above it. There, all Nature’s charms were vanishing: Spring’s beauties dared not appear. Unheard were the birds’ pleasant calls Which are always ready to enchant us. And unheard was the gentle turtledoves’ cooing. The burbling of the water seemed unpleasant. Darkness was everywhere and people’s rude manners Hid nature’s full beauty from their eyes. The owl’s wild call resounded everywhere. The crow hid beneath the oak branches. The nightingales’ song could not be heard— Only the rustle of the trees and the roar of wild beasts. Such horrors greeted all who entered there; And darkened minds became yet more obscured. Their ideas and words were like the Moon:  Now luminous, now filled with dark spots; Now concealing a pale face in earthly shadow; Now it waxes, then, just as suddenly, it wanes. Nothing looked as it should: Zephyr was rude and wicked. They thought the divine Homer was sleeping. They took his verses for fables. They heard neither his greatness nor his truth. They were unable to hear his songs

86 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Что в буйности Богов на брани убивал. Он лирой возглашал паденье славной Трои, Безсмертны стали им Ахейския Герои; Но песни таковы они за басни чли, Когда их таинства проникнуть не могли: Казалась таковым чтецам темняе ада, Светило разумов, преславна Илияда. В познанье древности они утех незрят: Им скучны кажутся Платон и сам Сократ, И сладкий Цицерон лишался там прятства, И мыслей в Пиндаре невиделось богатства; Все то, что с нежностью певал Анакреон, С которым кажется резвился купидон, Все то, щитали там безделкой пустословы; Казались Грации и дики и суровы, И стихотворная игра и простота, Казалася для них едина суета. Как будто нудящи сердца ко брани трубы, В руках у них стихи и лиры стали грубы. Виргилий красоты ни малой неимел; Без нежности у них Овидий сладкий пел; Всё то, что разумы прямыя озаряло, То свет и красоту у них в руках теряло. Там добродетели, по грубым их словам, Как будто бы в тени являлися очам, И так преображать толкуя их умели, Что прелестей оне природных не имели; Не оживляемы приличной красотой, Являлися оне, как огнь сквозь лес густой; Иль виды, кистию на доске изображенны, Которыя еще со всем не оживленны. Убранство странное приписывалось им, И крылась нагота красавиц сих под ним: Щедрота, грубою и пасмурной являлась, Роптала против тех, к кому она склонялась. Там Дружба шла всегда за прибылью во след, И роскоши слыла царицей и бесед;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 87 In which gods were killed in frenzied battle. He proclaimed the fall of glorious Troy20 on his lyre. He immortalized the Achaean21 heroes. Yet since they proved unable to penetrate their secrets They considered such songs fables: The renowned Iliad,22 that luminary of reasonable minds, Seemed darker than hell to such readers. They found no comfort in the wisdom of Antiquity: They found Socrates23 himself and Plato24 dull. And there sweet Cicero25 lost his charm And Pindar’s26 rich thought was nowhere to be seen. Everything that Anacreon27 sang tenderly— With which the cupid seemed to frolic— There, they considered all that trifling empty words. The Graces28 appeared fierce and unsociable; And poetical games and simplicity Seemed mere vanity to them. Like trumpets urging hearts to battle, Lyres and verses became coarse in their hands. Virgil29 had not the slightest beauty. Sweet Ovid30 sang among them without tenderness. Everything that illuminated upright minds Lost its light and beauty in their hands. There, in accordance with their rude words, virtues Appeared to the eyes as though in shadow. And they knew how to pervert them, expounding them Such that they had no natural charms. Not animated by decorous beauty, They appeared like fire through a dense forest Or like vistas, depicted by a brush upon a canvas, Which have yet to be fully painted. They were granted strange attire And beneath it was concealed the nakedness of these beauties: Generosity appeared rude and gloomy, Grumbling against everyone to whom she yielded. There, Friendship always walked with interest in tow And was known as the queen of luxury and conversation.

88 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Не ползуя сердец, сердца она вредила: Во прениях свои утехи находила. Любовь, тяжелыя носила узы там, И страшною она являлася сердцам; Не розовый венец носила, но терновый, И взор был у Любви не нежный, но суровый; На прелести очей не знала обращать, Стараясь не сердца, но злато похищать. Геройство, щастия единаго искало, И жалость позабыв, убийствами алкало, Кровавый на главе его венец лежал, И чувства зверския души изображал. Все то, что нашего источник есть блаженства, Касалось грубаго пороков совершенства. Воспитан тако был нещастный Полион: Не свет, единный мрак встречал повсюду он, Который повергал его младыя лета, В непостижимости о всем строеньи света, И мысли ложныя о мире подавал; Сулил везде обман, а правду затмевал. Где правят ум один, но сердце забывают, Там добродетели от наших глаз скрывают; Приемлет Истина там виды все не те, И все основано на лживой суете. Когда премудрости, кто в храм войти желает, Пусть сердце наперед, неразум изправляет; Однако Полион хоть честным был рожден, Не сей дорогой был к премудрости веден; Он разум почерпал не в пользу, но в отраву, Дающий грубый вид и чувствиям, и нраву; То будто агница взросла между волков, И зделали у ней примеры нрав суров. Конечно, нежных Мус где пению не внемлют, Там часто мрак ночный, за дневный свет приемлют. Такою нощию науки омрачен, И мысля что уже довольно он учен, Пещеры Полион и споры оставляет: Имея ложный ум, во свет себя являет.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 89 Rather than healing hearts, she harmed them: She found consolation in arguments. Love wore heavy fetters there And she terrified hearts. She wore a crown not of roses but of thorns; And Love’s gaze was not tender but fierce. She did not know that charming eyes were her proper domain, For she tried to steal not hearts but gold. Heroism sought only success And, forgetting pity, hungered for murder. His bloody crown lay upon his head And depicted his soul’s savage feelings. All that should have been the fount of our happiness Concerned itself only with the crude perfection of vice. In such a manner was the unfortunate Polion raised: Everywhere he met not light, but darkness, Which plunged his youthful years Into unknowables about the whole composition of the world And offered false ideas about it. Everywhere it portended deception and obscured truth. Where the mind alone rules but the heart is forgotten Virtues are concealed from our eyes. Truth adopts all the wrong appearances And everything is founded on false vanity. If one wishes to enter the temple of wisdom, Let the heart go first—’Tis not reason that improves us. But Polion, though born honest, Was led to wisdom along that road. He drew upon reason not for good, but for bad, Which gave both his feelings and morals a rude appearance, Like a lamb raised amidst wolves And given the example of a savage temperament. Of course, where the gentle Muses’ singing is not heard Nocturnal gloom is often taken for light of day. Thus was he clouded by the nighttime of learning And, believing himself sufficiently learned, Polion abandons intrigues and disputes. Having a false mind,31 he appears in the light of society.32

90 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Песнь вторая Как будто окружен ночною темнотой, Мятется человек в одре своем мечтой: Кипяще море зрит, громовы пораженья, И в память врежутся ужасны вображенья, Но утро, разогнав с небес ночную тень, Являет пасмурный и самый бурный день, И спящему велит ко страху возбудиться; Тогда смущенна мысль и паче возмутится. Подобно Полион был духом возмущен, Когда в мятежный свет из мрака был впущен; Опасныя мечты его отягощали, К которым мысль его и сердце обращали; Привычку такову с собою он повлек, И странный зделался на свете человек. Сильняе мысль его и сердце возмутилось, Как море жития очам его открылось: Привыкший к грубостям и безпокойствам нрав, Не чюствовал мирских веселий и забав; Завеса на очах его еще лежала, Котора свет пред ним во мрак преображала, И видит он мирских обрядов не любя, Как будто пропасти отверсты вкруг себя. Приветства общия и ласки ненавидит; Везде злодейства он, везде безумство видит. Он дружбе затворил в свое жилище дверь; Щитает всех зверьми, сей дикий нравом зверь. Противны пиршества, забавы там не нравны, Людския все дела, позорны и безславны; Так было сердце в нем со всем повреждено, Которо к нежности, и к славе рождено. О! ты, которая все в мире оживляешь, И щастие людей прямое составляешь, Тому причина ты Любовь, что здесь весной, Лист кроет древеса, и травка вид земной. Тобой цветы растут, и виноградны лозы;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 91 Canto Two As though surrounded by nocturnal darkness, A man thrashes about in bed, dreaming: He sees a frothing sea and crushing defeats, And horrible images are etched in his memory. But morning, having chased the nocturnal shadows from the heavens, Reveals a gloomy and stormy day And orders the sleeper to waken in fright. At that moment a troubled thought will become yet more agitated. Thus was Polion’s spirit disturbed When he was pushed from darkness into the stormy light. Dangerous dreams burdened him; His heart and thoughts directed him towards them. He brought with him these sorts of habits And cut a strange figure in society. His thoughts and heart were all the more strongly disturbed When the sea of life opened before his eyes: Accustomed to rude and unsettled manners, He could not experience worldly amusements and merriment. Upon his eyes still lay a veil Which turned the light before him into gloom. And he looked upon worldly customs with dislike, As though gaping chasms surrounded him. He despised common greetings and affection. Everywhere he saw evil deeds; everywhere foolhardiness. To friendship he closed the door of his abode. This wild beast of savage temperament considered all others a beast. Entertainments were loathsome; amusements there annoying. All human affairs were shameful and inglorious. Deeply injured was his heart Which had been born to tenderness and glory. O you, who animate everything in this world And constitute people’s absolute happiness!— Love, you are the reason that here, in springtime, Leaves cover the trees and grass covers the earthly vistas. You make the flowers and grapevines grow,

92 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Родятся лилии, родятся красны розы; Тобою всех вещей содержится союз; О! ты небесный огнь! душа прекрасных Муз! Все в мире сем течет и строится тобою: Ты правишь общею творений всех судьбою; И естли я поднесь неведаю тебя, Причину знаешь ты, спроси о том себя; Однако твоему я не смеюсь закону, Хотя казалась ты смешною Полиону. С презреньем он взирал на светлый твой престол, Неволницами чтил прекрасный женский пол; Незная в прелестях, ни вкуса, ни приятства, Союзы почитал постредствами богатства; Стенанье нежное и сладости любви, Щитал заразою и в сердце и в крови; Презренной слабостью любовны чувства ставил, И страсть взаимную лишал он честных правил. Владея будто бы рабом, нещастным сим, Ученье прежнее повсюду ходит с ним, И руку наложа на затворенны очи, Не хочет выпускать ево из темной ночи: Устам и языку свободы не дает, Велит язвить людей, велит порочить свет; Спокойства не дает ни наминуту духу, Ни слушать слов ни чьих не позволяет слуху; Как камень на уме его лежит оно, И кажется ему все грубо и темно. Отцы и матери! старание имейте, И в мыслях у детей семян таких не сейте, Семян, которыя разсудки бременят, Преобращаяся, сердцам в жестокий яд. Насставники! младых людей не жесточите, Не ненавидеть свет, любити свет учите; И Полионов вы не множьте между нас. О! грубость, здравый ум тобою в нем погас; Ты в мире все ему на оборот являло,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 93 The lilies and the red roses bloom. You are the union of all things. O you, heavenly flame! Soul of the beautiful Muses! Through you everything in this world is built and flows: You rule all creatures with a single destiny. And if until now I did not know you— You know the reason; ask yourself. But I do not mock your law, Although you seemed amusing to Polion. With disdain he gazed upon your bright throne. He considered the beautiful female sex captives. Knowing neither taste nor pleasure in their charms, He considered marriage a means to riches. Tender moans and love’s sweetness he considered An infection of the heart and blood. He took romantic sentiment for disdainful weakness And stripped mutual passion of honorable principles. Mastering this unfortunate man as though he were a slave, His previous education accompanied him everywhere And, laying a hand upon his closed lids, Did not wish to release him from the dark night And gave no freedom to his lips and tongue, But commanded him to taunt people; it commanded him to disparage society. It did not give his spirit a moment of peace, Nor let his ears listen to anyone else’s words. His education rested upon his mind like a stone And everything seemed rude and dark to him. Fathers and mothers! Be diligent And do not sow such seeds in your children’s minds— Seeds that burden reason, And poison hearts. Tutors! Do not embitter the young. Instruct them to love society, not hate it, And you will not propagate Polions among us. O rudeness! You extinguished his healthy mind. You presented everything to him the wrong way round

94 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И пользу иногда непользой представляло; Утехи жизненной прелестныя цветы, Казалися ему лишенны красоты; Приемлет он умов веселость и свободу, Источником безчинств, смущающих природу. В суровости, чем он все мысли напитал, Не добродетелью он жалость почитал; И слезы, нежных чувств живое показанье, Природных слабостей щитает за терзанье. В такой то странствуя повсеминутно тьме, И ложны правила имея во уме: Мечтанья темныя имея пред очами, И слух наполненный суровыми речами, Не мог приятности он чувствовать бесед. Печальным кажется ему и скучным свет: В превратном зеркале вселенну представляет, Где каждый человек друг друга отравляет; Где лесть является всемирною душей, Ни славы нет нигде, ни дружества без ней; Ко храму видится сего земного Бога, Лежащая к чинам и к щастию дорога; Она затмение достоинств и умов, Что любит всяк ее, ктоб ни был он таков; Что прелести сея красавицы опасной, Причина горести и гибели всечасной. Он видит целый свет, и видит разум в нем, Который для него казался слеп и нем; Что будто он ийти за истиной несмеет, И перед силными невежами робеет; Что добродетели теряют райский цвет; Приемлет будтобы за них, пороки свет, И правосудие в ногах у них лежаще, Является ему и дремлюще и спяще. Обманывался он; то истина что честь Сражают иногда обманы, гордость, лесть; Но чистыя умы насилие их видят, Плененны правдою злодейства ненавидят;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 95 And at times presented what is useful as useless. Life’s charming delights and colors Were not beautiful to him. He thought that free wit and merriment Led to excesses that disturbed nature. Nourishing his thoughts with severity, He did not consider pity a virtue. He considered tears—that living demonstration of tender feelings, Of natural weakness—to be a torment. Wandering in this eternal darkness, With false principles in his mind, And gloomy images before his eyes, And ears filled with stern words, He was unable to enjoy the pleasure of conversation. Society seemed sad and dull to him: He perceived the world in a reverse mirror Where everyone poisoned each other; Where flattery was the soul of the world and Glory was nowhere to be found, nor friendship without it. Toward the temple of this earthly god, A road can be seen that leads to rank and fortune.33 It marks the eclipse of virtue and of minds: Everyone loves it, whoever they may be, And the charms of this dangerous beauty Cause constant grief and destruction. He saw the whole world—and in it, reason, Which seemed to him blind and mute, As though it dared not pursue truth And cowered before powerful ignoramuses. Virtues lost their heavenly hue, As though society considered them vices. And justice, lying at their feet, Seemed to him drowsy and slumbering. He was deceived: ’Tis true that honor Is sometimes crushed by deception, pride, and flattery. But pure minds see their violence. Captivated by truth, they loathe evil deeds.

96 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Однако слабости встречая Полион, Щитает Царством зла жилище в свете он. Заразыль и красы любовник изчисляет, Или любезную он в песнях выхваляет; Друг друга хвалят ли за искренность друзья, Ни малых слабостей сердечных нетая; Поютсяль чьи нибудь Отечеству заслуги, Все льстят он говорил; любовники и други, Везде обман! в таких он мыслях утопал, И в безспокойствие самоизвольно впал; Сокрылась от него к веселию дорога, А худо знав людей, он худо знал и бога. Ни где ненаходил спокойства ни добра, И рек: Все пленники и щастья и сребра; Двух идолов таких все люди почитают, Не к добродетелям, но к ним сердцами тают, И чтобы ближе к сей святыне приступить, Неужасаются друг друга крови пить; А щастье на цветах сомкнув глаза лежаще, И руку со одра спущенную держаще, Неразбирая их, людей к себе влечет; В объятия, кто сей Богини притечет, Того развратный свет превыше неба взводит, И добродетели и разум в том находит. Коль щастие людей нехочет разбирать, А свет на качества душевныя взирать, Так хочет Полион ум собственный исправить, И нелюбя людей навеки их оставить. Но сколько ни был он дик нравом и свиреп, Для качества других невовсе был он слеп; В другом достоинства отменныя увидел; Он меньше всех его из смертных ненавидел: То младостию был цветущий человек, Который провождал с приятностью свой век, И ведал то что мы для общества рожденны, И людям слабости дозволить принужденны; Что мы объязаны, чтоб лутчу жизнь иметь,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 97 But Polion, encountering weakness, Viewed society life as an evil kingdom. If a lover extolled his beloved in songs Or recited her charms and beauty; If friends praised one another for their sincerity, Not covering up even their slightest faintness of heart; If someone’s service to the Fatherland was extolled— “They all flatter,” he said—“The lovers and the friends. Everywhere deception!” He wallowed in such thoughts And sank into a self-inflicted anxiety. The road to merriment lay hidden from him And, knowing people poorly, God too he knew not well. Nowhere did he find serenity or goodness. And he spoke: “Everyone is captive to fortune and silver. All people honor those two idols. Not for virtue, but for these things do their hearts melt. And in order to step closer to that sacred spot, They are not afraid to drink one another’s blood. And fortune, with eyes shut, lying on a bed of flowers, And lowering her hand from the bed, Draws people toward her, making no distinctions. Whoever falls into the embrace of that goddess Will be raised higher than the heavens by corrupt society And it will find virtues and reason in him.” Since society has no desire to understand people’s good fortune, But only to gaze upon their spiritual qualities, Wishing to correct his own mind And not caring for people, Polion abandoned them forever. But however wild and fierce his temperament, He was not utterly blind to other people’s qualities. He saw excellent virtues in one other person. He loathed him least among all mortals. He was a man blooming with youth, Who spent his time pleasantly And understood that we are born into society And must allow people their weaknesses; That in order to have a better life, we are bound

98 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И худо иногда спокойно в ней терпеть; Такой урок, ему был собственно полезен, И был он в обществе всем нравен и любезен. Сей друга дикаго хотел увещавать И света стал ему картину открывать; Смотри, он говорил, сии изображенья, Хотя уже в них нет Натуре подраженья; Но должно для того почтенье к ним хранить, Что начертаний сих неможно пременить. Здесь видишь градския воздвигнутыя стены; Препона то зверей, соседния измены; И удержание граждан во тишине; Спокойство в мирны дни, защита при войне; Когда усилились в сердцах людских пороки, То нужны зделались и стены им высоки; Со безопасностью они хранятся в них, Извне оружие, стрежет от бедства их. Ты видишь игры здесь, Ты видишь здесь забавы; Утехи разныя, имеют разны нравы; Там в поле видишь ты зверей гонящих псов; Там глас охотников ты слышишь средь лесов; Там уду опустя пронзают токи водны; Там пляски, песни там, там зрелища народны; Огромны здания; убоги шалаши; Пример мятежныя и тихия души! Там видишь коровод между снопов шумящих; Там слышишь в торжестве орудий звук гремящих; Там юность скачущу ты видишь во цветах; Внимаешь пение любви о красотах; Веселости сии и сносны и безбедны, Коль обществу оне и ближнему невредны. Для охранения тел наших на конец, Мы стены делаем; законы для сердец! Но люди не нато стенами разделились, Чтоб в оных живучи ничем невеселились; Позволили они сообщества любя, Беседы и пиры и игры для себя;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 99 At times to endure calmly the bad as well as the good. He found this lesson useful for himself And he pleased everyone and was loved in society. He wished to admonish his unsociable friend And showed him a picture of the world: “Look at these images,” he said. “Although they no longer imitate Nature,34 Still we must respect them, For these plans cannot be changed. Here you see city walls erected— An obstacle to savage beasts or the treachery of neighbors, And a restraint to maintain the people’s peace. In peaceful days, serenity; in times of war, defense. When vice intensifies in people’s hearts, High walls become necessary for them as well: They are kept safe within them— Outside, weapons guard them from misfortune. Here you see games and amusements. They have various pastimes and customs. There in the field you see dogs chasing beasts. There, you hear the voices of hunters in the woods. There, fishermen break the water’s current, lowering their poles. There are dances, songs, and spectacles, Enormous buildings, wretched huts, Examples of both rebellious and gentle souls! There, you see the khorovod35 amidst rustling sheaves. There, you hear the sound of instruments thundering in triumph. There, you see youth gamboling amidst the flowers. You hear songs about the beauties of love. These pleasures are both tolerable and benign If they do not harm society or our neighbor. Ultimately, we make walls to protect our bodies, And for the heart we make laws! But people did not divide themselves with walls So that, living within them, they might never make merry. Since they loved fellowship, they allowed Themselves conversations, feasts, and games.

100 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova А знав, что слабости сердца у всех смущают, С охотою они друг друга их прощают; И только страшны им пороки таковы, Которы рвут людей и мучат будто львы; Кто щастья здесь незрит, тот всех из нас бедняе, И кто порочит всех, тот свету всех вредняе. Небудь между людьми ты зверем Полион. Он слушал слов таких: и зверем стал быть он; Противу общества силняе воружился, И с другом за совет, на веки раздружился. Наскучил Полион развратный видя свет; правительство его мучителей зовет, Где злоба, истину и разум умерщвляет, Где все нарушено, и тако размышляет: “Могуль приобрести блаженство в жизни сей, Во свете где порок силняе всех царей? Где ложь в почтении, а правда страх наводит, И любящих Ее в презрение приводит; Где все обманчиво, и дружба, и любовь; Прибытку одному приносят в жертву кровь; Где добродетели уставы истребленны; И люди щастием и златом ослепленны; Где чесности закон в том только состоит, Что в собственном добре блаженство каждый чтит; Людския где умы коварствами блистают, И вредны замыслы премудростью щитают; Где сердце, никогда той правды нехранит, Котроую язык искусно говорит; Где гордая душа, надменная и злобна, Почтение к себе приобрести удобна, Где лесть, убежище и храм себе нашла; Где роскошь вредная, все меры превзошла; Сокроюся отсель! таких держася правил, Он друга, всех людей, и город весь оставил.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 101 And knowing that each of us is disturbed by timidity, They forgive it in one another with pleasure. And only those vices frighten them That, like lions, tear people apart and torment them. He who fails to see good fortune here is the poorest among us. And he who disparages everyone is the most harmful to society. Polion, be not a beast among people!” He listened to such words … and became a beast: He armed himself more heavily against society. And in return for his friend’s counsel, he broke with him forever. Seeing corrupt society, Polion felt dull. He called it the rule of tormentors— Where malice kills truth and reason; Where everything is destroyed. And he pondered thus: “Can I obtain happiness in this life; In society, where vice is more powerful than any king? Where lies are respected and truth causes fear And those who love it are despised? Where everything is deception—both friendship and love? Where blood is sacrificed only for gain? Where virtue’s principles have been destroyed And people have been blinded by fortune and gold? Where the law of honor states only that Each find happiness in his own goods? Where people’s minds shine with cunning And take pernicious thoughts for wisdom? Where hearts never preserve the truth That the tongue so skillfully utters? Where a proud soul, haughty and malicious, Is pleased to garner respect? Where flattery has found itself a refuge and a temple? Where pernicious luxury exceeds all bounds? I will escape this place!” Following these principles, He abandoned his friend, all the people, and the whole city.

102 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Песнь третия В прятных тех местах где солнце день раждает, И светом темноту ночную побеждает; Где все являются природы красоты, Шумящия ключи, и рощи и цветы, Кустарники, луга; натуры все приятства; Где Флорины сады, Церерины богатства, Гуляя при стадах венки пастушки вьют, И жизнь свободную, и нежну страсть поют; В свирели пастухи при хижинах играют, И пышны здания Градския презирают; Там кажется еще златыя дни текут, И со свободой мир, престол имели тут. Хотя невинности там люди удалились, Но нравов простотой и мыслей веселились; Там птичек следуя приятным голосам, Любовники свой жар вспевали по лесам; Вседневно новыми цветами украшались, И слабостью сердец взаимно утешались; Не в тягостных трудах у них проходят дни; Венчали вечера забавами они; И щастие всегда прямое почерпали; Трудились в радости, а ночь спокойно спали. Сама себя меж них природа веселя, В награду за сие, их домы, и поля, Их реки, и леса она обогатила; Мирское зло от них, казалось, отвратила; Но льзяли щастьем в век, нам сердце утешать? Приходит Полион спокойству их мешать; В селенье таковом, где роскошь вкруг лежала, Часть оных жителей ему принадлежала; Вступает только он в окружности села, Где все приятности Природа собрала, Увидел в далеке древесныя дороги, И возвышенныя прекрасныя чертоги; Се дом, что был ему к жилищу посвящен;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 103 Canto Three In those pleasant places where the sun gives birth to day And with its light conquers nocturnal darkness; Where all nature’s beauty appears— Babbling brooks and groves and flowers, Bushes, meadows, all the pleasantness of nature, Flora’s36 gardens and the riches of Ceres37— There, the shepherdesses, strolling amidst their herds, weave wreathes And sing the free life and tender passion. The shepherds play the reed by their huts And disdain the city’s splendid buildings. There, it seems that golden days still flowed And peace and freedom shared a throne. The people had withdrawn, desiring innocence. But in the simplicity of their manners and thoughts they made merry. There, following the birds’ pleasant calls, Lovers sang their ardor throughout the woods. They adorned themselves daily with new flowers And found comfort in their shared timidity. Their days were not spent in burdensome labors. They crowned their evenings with amusements And always reaped true happiness. They labored joyfully and slept soundly at night. Nature herself, making merry among them, In reward for all this, enriched their homes and fields, Their rivers and their forests. It seemed that worldly misfortune had turned away from them. But can our hearts be comforted by happiness forever? Polion arrived to disturb their peace. In that prosperous village A portion of the residents belonged to him.38 Just when he entered the outskirts of the village, Where Nature had assembled every pleasantness, He caught sight of wooden roads39 in the distance And a tall beautiful manse. That was the building appointed as his residence.

104 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Не пышностию был сей дом обогащен, Ни злато, ни сребро там царства неимело; Великолепие являтися не смело; Приятной простотой сиял наружный вид; И не являося ни гордых Пирамид, Ни мраморных столбов, огромностию диких; Ни вида общия неволи, стен великих; Но селская везде встречалась красота, Пред коею скучна мирская суета! Спокойство, чистота, природе подражанье, То было лутчее в сем доме украшенье. Вокруг чертогов сих являлися места, Где соплетенныя произросли куста; Произрастали вкруг и розы, и лилеи; Из липовых древес являлися алеи; Там видны разныя натура съединя, И зрение людей, и мысли полоня, С одной страны явит холмы глазам высоки; С вершины гор текут хрустальныя потоки; И извиваяся в густой траве журчат, Струями за собой зефиров легких мчат. С другой луга, поля, и рощи открывает, И мнится в тех лугах Натура пребывает, Покояся лежит на мяхких муравах, Лазоревы цветы имея в головах. Художества, труды, и хитрости забвенны, Где нежны таинства природы откровенны; Не украшалось там ничто искусством рук; Не видно было тех ни где следов наук, Которыя свои все силы истощая, Стремятся нас пленять, природу заглушая; Везде встречалася приятность и покой; Нельзя нещастну быть, вкушая век такой! Там злобу жители и хитрость истребили, Природы прелести, и наготу любили; Любили; но смутил их щастье Полион. Имея дикий нрав, в свой дом вступает он,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 105 That house was not splendidly appointed; Neither gold nor silver reigned there; Magnificence dared not make an appearance. The exterior shone with pleasing simplicity And there appeared neither proud pyramids, Nor marble columns, absurd in their enormity, Nor that image of universal bondage, great walls. But everywhere there was a rustic beauty Before which worldly vanity seemed dreary! Peace, cleanliness, imitation of nature— Those were the finest adornments of that house. Around this manse were spots Where thickets had grown up, intertwined. Roses and lilies too grew all around. Alleys could be seen through the linden trees. There, nature’s harmony was displayed And captivating people’s eyes and thoughts, Revealed tall hills on one side. From the mountaintops flowed crystal streams That, winding through the thick grass, Babbled and carried along light zephyrs in their currents. From the other side, she revealed meadows, fields, and groves. And it seemed that Nature lived in those meadows. Resting, she lay on the soft young grass, With azure flowers at her head. Where the gentle mysteries of nature are revealed, Arts, labor, and crafts are forgotten. Nothing was embellished by artifice. Nowhere could traces of learning be seen That, exhausting all their powers, Strive to captivate us, stifling our nature. Everywhere there was pleasantness and peace. ’Tis impossible to be unhappy when enjoying an age such as this! The inhabitants there had destroyed malice and cunning. They loved unadorned nature and her charms. They loved it—but Polion disturbed their happiness. With his unsociable temperament, he entered his home

106 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И в грусть его сама натура повергает, Ее приятства он и все пренебрегает; На чистыя поля, и на зеленость гор, На рощи; на цветы он смутный мещет взор; И приобыкшему его к суровоствам нраву, Казалось быти все ни в пользу, ни в забаву; Он хочет нежности природы истребить! Суровство простоту умеет ли любить! Пускай он говорит; здесь воды не играют, Зефиры по кустам резвиться недерзают, И дом сей окружат дремучия леса; Да скроются от глаз прозрачны небеса; Пусть тернием поля и рощи заглушатся, И жители пустых веселостей лишатся; Пускай изобразит сей дом, ученья храм; Здесь телом будучи, я духом буду там, Где молодость мою наукой насыщали, Где разум, мысль мою, и сердце просвещали; Да будет таково жилище здесь мое! Исполнилось его намеренье сие; Труды к разстройности природы положили, И дом высокими стенами окружили; К чертогам трудныя явилися стези; Дубовы древеса открылися в близи; Безценны нежности природы изчезали; Гремящия ключи казалось, замерзали; Лазоревый от глаз небесный скрылся свод; Померкла красота цветов; прозрачность вод; Казалось, что сама Натура тамо дремлет, И взоры грубыя в окружности приемлет, Зефиры спят в лугах; природы нежный вид, Печалной кажется завесою покрыт; Все мрачно зделалось, превратно, и ужасно; Со грубостью его являлося согласно; Пременой таковой любуясь Полион, Простер как будтобы на всю природу сон. Где слышались сперва поющи вольность гласы,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 107 And nature herself thrust him into sadness. And still he scorned her pleasures. Toward the broad expanses and green mountains, Toward the groves and flowers, he cast a troubled gaze And, accustomed to severity, his temperament Found nothing useful or amusing. He wished to destroy nature’s beauty! Can severity love simplicity? “May the waters not play here,” he said— “May the zephyrs dare not frolic amidst the thickets. And may this house be encircled by dark woods, That the clear skies might be hidden from my eyes. May the fields and groves be choked by thorns And the inhabitants deprived of idle merriments. May this house become a temple of learning. Here in body—in spirit I will be there— Where my youth was imbued with learning; Where my reason, thoughts, and heart were enlightened. Yes, such will be my dwelling here!” And this intention was fulfilled. Work that upset nature was begun And the house was encircled by high walls. A work road appeared, leading to the manse. Oak trees could be seen nearby. Nature’s priceless beauties were disappearing. The roaring springs seemed to freeze over. The azure vault of heaven was hidden from the eyes. The flowers’ beauty faded; the water’s transparency as well. It seemed that Nature herself was drowsing And accepted these rude sights in her surroundings. Zephyrs slept in the meadows; nature’s gentle aspect Seemed covered by a sad veil. Everything became gloomy, loathsome, and terrible, In apparent harmony with his rudeness. It was as if Polion, loving such a transformation, Had put all of nature to sleep. Where previously voices could be heard singing liberty

108 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И разстилаются по нивам желты класы; Со пляской носятся шумящия снопы, Довольство следом их вступает в их стопы, И селским жителям бывает труд в охоту, Ущедрив многими плодами их работу, Изображение сие златых веков, Когда был смертных род еще во свете нов, И чужд от хитрости, имел простыя нравы, Нечувствовал сует; но чувствовал забавы; Оставя гордыя венцы и олтари, Со земледелцами работали цари, И плуг производили в трудах не униженье; Но был он лутчее для смертных упражненье; Сие расстроенной наукой омрачен, От правил естества далеко отлучен, Упрямый Полион, в уме своем безславит, И в деле том селян незнающими ставит; Другия правила сулит изобрести, Дабы могли плоды обилняе расти; Единым мысленным исполнен толкованьем, Обманут стал его напрасным упованьем; Где сеят семена, там былие цветет; Где поле чистит он, там острый терн растет; Изсякли там ключи, где чаял делать реки; Засохли древеса, стоящи многи веки; Преобратилось все, как будтобы в Хаос: Невидно там садов, ни виноградных лоз, Ни роза не цветет, ни белая лилея; Не зеленеет луг свободы неимея; Единым былием другое заглушил, И жизни Полион природу всю лишил. Приятность от полей далеко отлетала; Там скука видится, где радость обитала; Не примиримый враг веселий и забав; По всюду Нелюдим простер свой дикий нрав; Свирель в лугах молчит, невидно пляски в поле;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 109 And yellow ears had spread across the fields; Where contentment had followed in the footsteps of people Who danced along, carrying rustling sheaves, And the country residents enjoyed the labors Which generously rewarded their work with many fruits. It was the very image of those golden ages40 When the human race was still new in the world And, devoid of cunning, had simple customs and Experienced not vanities but amusements. Leaving behind proud crowns and altars, Kings worked alongside farmers. And laboring at the plow did not cause indignation, But was man’s favored occupation. Spoiled by unharmonious learning and Far removed from the rules of nature, Polion was stubborn and dishonored them in his thoughts. And, in so doing, he considered the villagers ignorant. He promised to devise different rules, That fruit might grow more abundantly. His mind filled with these thoughts alone, He was deceived in his vain hopes: Where seeds were sown—weeds sprouted. Where he cleared the field—sharp thorns grew. Streams dried up where he thought to make rivers. The trees, which had stood for many centuries, wilted. Everything turned to Chaos: The gardens and the grape vines were no longer to be seen. Neither the rose nor the white lily bloomed. Lacking freedom, the meadow no longer greened. One blade of grass choked another, And Polion deprived all nature of life. Pleasantness flew far away from the fields. Now tedium was seen where once joy resided. The Misanthrope, that implacable foe of merriment and amusements, Spread his unsociable temperament everywhere. In the meadow the reed fell silent; dancing was no longer seen in the field.

110 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Натура и сердца быть кажутся в неволе, И вместо чаемых обилий и отрад, Вступает на поля и в селы бледный глад; Остатки прежняго доволства пожирает: В объятиях его младенец умирает, И грусти в круг себя встречающий одни, В руках у сыновей старик кончает дни! Такой приносит плод развратное ученье, Когда приложится к чему его раченье. Изобретатели к обилству новых средств, Бывают иногда причиной общих бедств; Когдабы длилось в век такое наставленье, Изчезли б все плоды, любовь, увеселенье. Забавы от лугов бегут далеко прочь, И заступает их тоска, нещастий дочь! Умильность от цветов и рощей улетает; Не радость; но печаль в долинах обитает; Веселости с полей приятности берут, И кажется отсель заплакав прочь бегут; Прощаются навек с пещерами забавы; Уныние в сердца, суровость входит в нравы. На посох опершись явились при стадах, Раздоры с строгостью живущия в градах, Которы стражами став общаго блаженства, Доводят смертных род всех бед до совершенства. Умеренность! лишь ты спокойство нам сулишь; Ни рощей, ни полей на части неделишь; Пустою славою себя не насыщаешь; Ни злата, ни сребра себе не похищаешь; Не тягостны тебе ни ум чужой, ни честь; Не ищешь ты чинов, довольна тем что есть; Но гордость между нас явилась лишь в порфире, Презренной сиротой осталася ты в мире; Преобратилася в безумство и в порок, И мил нам зделался пребедственный наш рок! Такия суеты, такия огорченья, Выносят Полион из мрачного ученья;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 111 Hearts and nature seemed captive. And instead of the anticipated abundance and joys, Pale hunger entered the fields and the villages. It devoured the remains of their former contentment: The infant died in its embrace. And the old man, meeting only sadness all around, Ended his days in the arms of his sons! Such is the fruit born of corrupt learning When once its zeal takes aim. Those who invent new ways to acquire wealth Sometimes become the source of new woes. If such orders were to remain in place forever All fruit, love, and gaiety would vanish. Amusements ran far from the meadows And melancholy, misfortune’s daughter, took their place! Tenderness flew from the flowers and groves. Not joy but sadness resided in the valleys. Having broken down in tears, Merriment took pleasantness from the fields and ran away. Amusements bid a final farewell to the grottos. Despair entered hearts and severity entered manners. Discord appeared among the flocks, leaning on his staff. With his strict principles he lived in the cities Where he is now guardian of the common good41 And leads the whole human race to utter catastrophe. Moderation! You alone promise peace of mind. You do not parcel the groves and fields. You do not sate yourself with empty glory. Neither gold nor silver do you steal. Neither the wit nor the honor of your neighbor do you find burdensome. You do not seek rank;42 you are content with what you have. But the moment Pride appeared among us in porphyry, You were left a despised orphan in the world. You were transformed into madness and vice, And we found dear even the most unhappy lot! With his dismal education Polion nourished This sort of vanity and chagrin.

112 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И как ни отдален от цели щастья свет, Но дале влек от ней Селян его совет. Долины, дом его и рощи стали скучны, А жители приняв уставы злополучны. И там у чистых вод берески где расли, Он мыслил что нетак стада они пасли; Не нравились ему в долинах караводы; Изображение спокойства и свободы, Не нравилось ему ни беганье в лугах; Не резвость пастуха с пастушкой на брегах; Ни беспорочная забота у пастушки, Как прячется она в пещерах от подружки; Ни пляска, ни любовь, ни песней нежных глас; Тогда луч радостей на пажитях угас; Свободу Нелюдим, забавы нарушает, Щитая, что она стада пасти мешает; Во праздность томную у них приводит дни; Не стали не играть, ни песен петь они, В любви и в нежности непогубляют время, Преобратилась жизнь безвинная во бремя; В зеленых муравах уже отрады нет; А щастье к пастухам обещанно нейдет; Веселости ушли, стада не прибывают; Пастушки кажется и овцы унывают; Где песни слышались, там ныне слышен стон, Доволен был таким превратом Полион. Однако, новыя досады он встречает: Пришедши в дом; письмо из града получает, То пишет прежний друг; о небо он речет! Я скуки прочь бегу, она замной течет, За мной, котроый град и всех друзей оставил, Ни в ком ненаходя благоразумных правил; Но вздумал наконец писанье прочитать, И видит в нем сие, отняв его печать: Среди веселостей - - - веселости во граде! Вскричал он в горести, в смятенье и досаде; Во граде бедствия единыя живут,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 113 And however distant society was from the goals of happiness, The villagers were drawn still further away by his counsel. The valleys, the groves, and his house became dreary; And wretched were the inhabitants who had received his instructions. And where the birch trees once grew by the pure waters, He thought the herds were not being properly tended. He did not like the khorovod43 in the valleys— That expression of serenity and freedom. He did not like the gamboling in the meadows, Nor the frolicking of shepherds with shepherdesses upon the banks, Nor the innocent cares of the shepherdess, Nor her hiding in the caverns from her friends; Nor dancing, nor love, nor the sound of tender songs. At that time the ray of joy was extinguished in their pastures. The Misanthrope destroyed amusements and freedom, Believing that it hindered the tending of the herd. He drove their days into dull idleness. No longer did they play or sing songs. They did not waste time in love and tenderness. Innocent life became a burden. There was no longer joy on the young green grass And shepherds did not receive their promised happiness. Merriment departed, and the herds no longer multiplied. Both the shepherdesses and the sheep seemed to despair. Where once songs were heard, now there were only groans. Polion was pleased with this transformation. But he encountered new vexations: Arriving home, he received a letter from the city. His former friend had written. “O heavens!” he said, ”I run from boredom but it comes after me; After me, who abandoned the city and all my friends, Since I was unable to find reasonable principles in anyone.” But in the end he decided to read the letter And when he broke the seal, saw this: Amidst the merriments—“Merriments in the city!” He cried out in sorrow, confusion and vexation, “Only misfortune lives in the city.

114 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И скуку общую там радостью зовут; Забавой самою сердца обремененны, Затем что гордостью они изобретенны; Читая далее, досады больше зрит; Там писано: Феатр во граде здесь открыт! Мы видели на нем стенящую Заиру, Плачевный сей пример убийства данный миру, Когда ревнующий и к теням Орозман, Сразил ее, любовь приемля за обман: Со Орозманом мы, с Заирою страдали; И будто о прямом нещастии рыдали; Се плод позорищей! писма читатель рек, Иль редко и без них рыдает человек; И нужноль выдумкой всеобщу горесть множить, Дабы встревоженны сердца, еще тревожить; Возможноль, что бы я доволен действом был, Которым бы тоску, удвоил, незабыл! О! люди, вам театр, нечесть, но поношенье; Он образ всей земли, лшиь только в уменшенье! Еще - - - мы Талией здесь мысли веселим. И вы любуетесь безумием своим! Смеетесь вы себе, чтоб в век неизправляться; Удобноль слабостью своей увеселятся? Позволено ли в смех пороки претворять? Карать их надлежит нам, ими не играть. Еще читает он:- - - Здесь новые утехи, По брегу водят здесь и грациев и смехи, В вечерния часы гуляя красоты, К которым бы любовь почувствовал и ты. И я почувствовал! смеюся нежной страсти; Сердяся, растерзал писание на части, И рек в свирепости: пускай любовь других, В оковах держит в век, как пленников своих! Безстрашным оком я на прелести взираю, И тленность их красот, и нежность презираю; Но болше раздражить, свой ум и мрачный нрав,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 115 And they call this common tedium joy. Hearts are burdened by these very amusements, Since they are attained by pride.” Reading further, he saw yet further vexations: There it was written: A theater has opened here in the city! There we saw the moaning Zaïre,44 That lamentable example of murder shown to the world, When Orosmane, jealous of shadows, Struck her down, mistaking her love for deception: We suffered along with Orosmane and Zaïre, And we wept as if for our own misfortune. “There it is, the fruit of shameful acts!”45—spoke the reader of the letter. “As if man weeps so seldom without them; And as if made-up notions were needed to increase our shared sorrow, That troubled hearts might be yet further disturbed. Is it possible to be content with this acting, Which does not help me forget my melancholy, but rather increases it! O, people! The theater does you not honor but disgrace. ’Tis an image of the whole earth, but in miniature!” And there was more: We amuse our thoughts with Thalia.46 “And you enjoy your madness! You laugh at yourselves so that you need never improve yourselves. Is it proper to be entertained by your own weakness? Is it permissible to turn vice into laughter? We should punish it, not use it for play.” He read further: There are new pleasures here, Graces and amusements have been introduced to these shores, And in the evening beautiful women stroll, Whom even you would love. —“Even I would love! I mock tender passion.” In anger, he tore the letter to pieces And spoke severely: “Let love hold others captive, Forever in her fetters! I look upon their charms with a dispassionate eye And disdain their tenderness and ephemeral beauty.” But to irritate his mind and dismal temperament still further,

116 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Пошел он в темный лес, с собою книгу взяв: То были строгия Сенеки наставленья, Претящи светския сердцам увеселенья. Песнь четвертая Сей бог, которому подвластен смертных род, Правитель всех вещей, Кипридин сын, Ерот; И небо, и земля которому подвластны, Бывают щастливы кем самыя нещастны, Душа, которая всему живот дает, Везде присудствует, везде она живет; Все вещи в естестве которая спрягает, И к нежностям любви стремленье возжигает: Ерот, места всея Вселенной обтекал, И зря на смертных род, в сердца их проникал; Покорствует ли свет его прятной власти, Хранитсяли закон в сердцах любовной страсти? Прелестны Грации одушевляя свет, Составив цепь из рук летят за ним во след: Младыя Гении вокруг его летали, И розы в круг его по воздуху метали, Играя разносил питающий весь мир Благоухание на крылиях Зефир; Со спутниками тут Ерот на час простился, С средины воздуха на шар земный спустился, Кидая всюду взор, окресность озарил, И зрит, что власти мир своей он покорил, Что носит смертных род его прятны узы; Установляются им всех вещей союзы, Что повинуется ему земная тварь, Что он правитель душ, сердец и мыслей царь; Могуществом своим себя увеселяет, И тако сам в себе с восторгом размышляет: Сооруженны мне повсюду олтари, Приносят жертвы мне народы и цари; Вся тварь и естество хранят мои уставы;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 117 He set off for the dark woods with book in hand: It was Seneca’s47 strict admonitions That forbid our hearts social entertainments. Canto Four Here is the god to whom the human race submits, The ruler of all things, Eros, the Cyprian’s son,48 To whom both earth and sky submit, By whom the most unhappy are made happy. This soul, which gives life to everything, Is everywhere in attendance; resides everywhere; Unites all things in nature And kindles longing for love’s tenderness. Eros travels around the world And, seeing the human race, pierces their hearts. Will the world submit to his pleasant power? Will the law of romantic passion be preserved in their hearts? The charming Graces,49 inspiring the world, Link arms and fly after him. Young Genii50 fly around him And toss roses in the air. The Zephyr at play spreads from its wings A fragrance that nourishes the whole world. Eros bid farewell to his companions for an hour. From the sky he descended to our earthly sphere. Casting his gaze all around, he illuminated his surroundings And saw that the world had submitted to his power; That the human race wore his pleasant fetters. The union of all things had been established by him. He saw that earthly creation obeyed him; That he was the ruler of souls, the king of hearts and minds. He amused himself with his own power And enraptured, thought to himself: “Everywhere altars have been erected to me. Peoples and kings bring me sacrifices. All of creation and nature uphold my laws.

118 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Нет щастья без меня, нет радости, ни славы; Куда не обращусь престолы всюду зрю; Род смертных к моему простерся Олтарю; Там зрю источники друг к другу устремленны, Зелены ветвия древес совокупленны; Сплетенных травок здесь мне зрятся красоты, Соединяются мной листья и цветы; Там нежны горлицы на ветвиях стонают, И лобызания стократно начинают; На человеческий отсель взираю род, В сердцах написано; - - - здесь царствует Ерот; Знаменование такое возвещает, Что каждый душу мне с охотой посвящает; Что мною дышит всяк, и мною всяк живет, Где нет меня когда, и жизни тамо нет; Ни лук, ни стрелы мне, ни мой колчан не нужен; Могу я побеждать, хоть буду безоружен; На что мне действие любовнаго огня, Всяк любит и любить готов и без меня. Приближились к нему все нежности, утехи; Сопутники любви забавы, игры, смехи; И, крылья развернув хотят нести его, Да зрит пространство он владенья своего; Но только он на лес дремучий оглянулся, Познал, хотя был Бог, что в славе обманулся; Увидел, по среди дремучих он лесов, Что смертный ходит там, но ходит без оков, Приятности любви и Граций презирает, С суровостью на власть Еротову взирает; Не чувствует его приятности в крови; И чает щастлив быть на свете без любви; Ерот досадует, краснеет, и трепещет, И, стрелу натянув во Полиона мещет; То он был - - - но в него пущенная стрела, Сперва сурову грудь пробити не могла; Удрарясь о нее, лишь только затрясалася,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 119 Without me there is no happiness, joy, or glory. Whichever way I turn, I see thrones all around. The human race falls at my altar. There, I see streams striving toward each other. Green tree branches are joined together. I see the beauty of interwoven blades of grass. Leaves and flowers are united by me. There, tender turtledoves coo on branches And start the first of a hundred kisses. From this spot I gaze at the human race. In their hearts it is written: Here reigns Eros. This expression means That all people gladly dedicate their souls to me; That each person breathes for me; and for me each person lives. There is no life where I am not. Neither my bow, my arrows, nor my quiver are necessary: Even unarmed I can conquer. What need have I for the power of love’s flame: Everyone loves and is prepared to love even without me.” Every charm and delight approached him: Love’s companions—amusements, games, and laughter. They spread their wings and wished to carry him, That he might view the expanse of his territories. But he had only glanced at the dark forest When he understood that, though he was a god, he had been deceived in his glory. He caught sight in the dark woods Of a mortal walking along, but unfettered— The man disdained the pleasantness of the Graces and of love. He looked severely at the power of Eros. It was not in his nature to feel that pleasantness And he thought himself happy on earth without love. Vexed, Eros flushed and trembled And, drawing his arrow, launched it at Polion. But the arrow released toward him Could not at first pierce his severe heart: It struck but then dropped to the ground.

120 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Суровость нежности не скоро поддалася. Ерот в отчаяньи речет: постой! постой, Не защитишься ты от сей стрелы златой. Он выхватил ее и лук свой напрягает, Пустил: и в сердце огнь в минуту возжигает; Познай меня теперь, во гневе говорит; Познал Ерота он и пламень в нем горит. Цитерский Бог свой дух весельем утешает, Доволен будучий, что смертных сокрушает, Направя дале путь, он спутникам вскричал; Теперь я все свои победы окончал; Победы окончал! а Полион в злой страсти, Уж начал чувствовать его свирепость власти; И безизвестным он теперь огнем горит, Мятется дух его, он все пременно зрит; Смущеньем некаким в нем сердце взволновалось; И нечто новое во чувствиях раждалось, В восторге бегает по диким он лесам, Повсюду ищет он, чего? не знает сам, Cтремительно на все места свой взор кидает, Узреть желает он, кого узреть? незнает! Объята мысль его незнаемой тоской, Вздыхает, мучится, потерян стал покой, Дивится Полион премене чувства странной, И действиям тоски во грудь его влиянной; Что зделалося с ним неведает того, И сам неузнает он сердца своего; Оно смягчилось в нем, из мыслей грубость скрылась; Суровая душа Ероту покорилась; Но в те часы, когда его пылала кровь, Неведал Полион, что то была любовь; Любовь! которая все вещи пременяет, Когда разит она, когда сердца пленяет; Разсеянную мысль, смущенный дух имев, И таинства любви проникнуть не умев; (Понятыль таинства такия человеку) Наскучил чтеньем он, и прочь отверг Сенеку,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 121 Severity did not submit quickly to tenderness. Eros spoke in despair: “Stop! Stop! You will not defend yourself from this golden arrow.” He pulled it out and drew his bow. He released it—and in a moment fire sparked in Polion’s heart. “Know me now,” Eros said in anger. Polion recognized Eros, and a flame burned within him. The Cytherean51 god, content that he had upset mortals, Amused his spirit with this merriment. Continuing further along his way, he called out to his companions: “Now I have accomplished all my victories. My victories have been accomplished!” And Polion, terribly tormented, Already began to sense the ferocity of his power. And now he burned with an unknown fire. His spirit was troubled; he saw everything differently. His heart was disturbed by some kind of trouble And something new was born in his feelings. In raptures, he ran about the wild forest. Everywhere he sought … what? He himself knew not. He gazed fixedly all around. He wished to see … whom did he wish to see? He knew not! His thoughts were seized by an unfamiliar anguish. He sighed and was tormented; his peace had vanished. Polion was amazed at this strange change of feeling And at the powerful anguish that poured into his heart. He knew not what was happening to him; And he did not know his own heart: It softened within him; rudeness faded from his mind. That severe soul submitted to Eros. But in those hours when his blood burned, Polion did not realize that it was love. Love! Which transforms all things when it strikes, When it captures hearts. With scattered thoughts and a troubled spirit And not knowing how to penetrate the mysteries of love, (Is it for human beings to understand such mysteries?) He became bored with reading and rejected Seneca.

122 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Спокойства я тобой искал, в досаде рек; Беседовал с тобой, а мой покой утек; И что я стал, и сам того непонимаю; Не за того себя, кто был я принимаю; Какое действие я чувствую в крови; Вздыхаю! я слыхал, вздыхают от любви; Не я ли покорен сей страсти непотребной; Знать духи здесь живут? знать, вижу лес волшебной! От древа каждаго сотрепетом бегу; Но бегая сыскать дороги не могу. Подобен Полион еленю уязвленну; Носящему везде стрелу в него вонзенну; Бежит к потокам вод тушить кипящу кровь: Везде любовь за ним, с водою пьет любовь; Уже не воздухом, любовию дыхает; И стонут древеса, и травка засыхает; Все любит, кажется, и тает вкруг его, Любовь повсюду с ним, и в сердце у него; И всем пленяется, и все он ненавидит, В смятеньи таковом прекрасну деву видит;‡1 Он видит оную, сидящу на коне, И слышит что его все чувства во огне, Спешит он мнимыя богини удалится, Но смотрит на нее, и духом веселится; Подай с стрелами лук, найдешь Дияну в ней; Палладу узришь ты, подай Егиду ей; Пришли к ней Грациев, увидишь Афродиту; Имела перьями главу она покрыту, И белы по плечам лежащие власы, Приумножающи заразы и красы; Казалась Нимфою в охотничей одежде; Нестолько Полион стал дик сколь дик был прежде; Боялся зреть Ее к ней очи обратил; Желая прочь итти, к ней ближе приступил, То стонет, то молчит, то речи начинает; ‡ В лице сей девы изображается дух разумения [author’s footnote].

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 123 “In you I sought peace,” he said in vexation. “I conversed with you; but my peace has drained away And what I have become, I myself do not understand, Nor do I accept myself as I was. What agitation I feel in my blood. I sigh! I have heard that people sigh from love. Can it be that I submit to that indecent passion? Perhaps spirits live here? Perhaps that’s an enchanted forest I see? I run from every tree, trembling, But running, I am unable to find the road.” Polion was like a wounded deer, Carrying everywhere the arrow that had pierced him. He ran to a stream of water to cool his boiling blood. Everywhere love followed him; he drank love along with the water. ’Twas no longer air, but love he breathed. And the trees groaned and the grass withered. It seemed everything loved and languished around him. Love was in his heart and was with him everywhere. He was captivated by everything and loathed everything. Amidst this confusion he saw a beautiful woman.§2 He saw her sitting upon a steed And felt that all his feelings were on fire. He hastened to distance himself from the false goddess, But he looked at her and his spirit was merry. If you were to present her with bow and arrows, you would find a Diana52 in her. If you presented her with the Aegis, a Palladium53 you would see. Send the Graces to her, and you would see Aphrodite.54 Her head was covered in plumage And blonde locks fell upon her shoulders, Increasing her beauty and charm. She seemed a nymph in hunter’s clothing. Polion was no longer as unsociable as he had been before. He was afraid to look at her…he turned his eyes to her. Wishing to move away, he stepped closer. Now he moaned, now fell silent, now began to speak. § This maiden represents the spirit of understanding [author’s footnote].

124 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Все хочет он сказать, но что сказать незнает! В таком волнении встречающа его Девица, возвела взор нежный на него; Небойся Полион; она ему сказала; Здесь видется с тобой судьба нам присказала; Отсель не в далеке я дом имею мой, Давно желала я беседовать с тобой; Давно я о твоем слыхала странном нраве, И слухи таковы к твоей неслужат славе. Видала я тебя трудящася в полях, В несходных с праведным учением делах; В мой лес уединясь, я здесь ко удивленью Тебя увидела подвластнаго томленью; Вздыхаешь, мучишся, ты бегаешь стеня; Дороги ищеш ты, ненайдешь без меня; Последуй ты замной; из сих ужасных мраков, Окроме тропки сей, здесь нет иных признаков, Ведущих к нашим двум соседственным домам, Пойдем; мы встретимся с моей охотой там. Как будто дикий зверь из глубины влечется, И вырватся из рук ловущаго печется: Супротивлялся так девице Полион; Но нечувствительно за нею идет он; Суровый ум претит ийти с девицей сею, А сердце говорит; ступай, ступай за нею; И видно из его движения и глаз, Что он нашел сие, чего искал за час; Желает, чтоб она лице свое скрывала; И хочет, чтоб к нему взирать непреставала; Безмолвия стыдясь, стыдится речь начать, И вопрошаемый не может отвечать; Приметя в нем она смущение такое, Что мысли все его и сердце не в покое, Страшишcя ли меня, рекла она ему? Вот свойство любящих уныние и тму; Вот плод нещастливый того уединенья, В котором Полион ты ищешь утешенья,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 125 All the time he wished to speak; but what to say, he knew not! Finding him in such agitation, The maiden lifted her tender gaze toward him. “Do not be afraid, Polion,” she told him. “Fate ordained that we should meet here. My home is not far away. Long have I wanted to talk with you. Long have I heard of your strange temperament; And such rumors do no service to your reputation. I saw you laboring in the fields, Involved in matters unsuited to a proper education. To my surprise, I saw you here, Seeking solitude in my woods and burdened with suffering. Sighing, tormented, you run about, moaning. Without me, you will not find the path you seek. Follow me. From this terrible darkness There are no markers other than the path That leads to our two neighboring houses. Let us go. There we will meet up with my hunt.”55 Just as the wild beast pulls with all its heart, Trying to tear itself from the arms of a trap, So Polion resisted the maiden. But numbly he followed her. His severe mind forbade him follow this maiden, But his heart said, “Go with her.” And it was clear from his movement and his eyes That he had found what earlier he had been seeking. He wished that she would conceal her face … And wished she would not stop looking at him. Ashamed of his silence, he was ashamed to start speaking. Questioned, he was unable to respond. Observing his confusion and Seeing that his thoughts and heart were not at peace, She said to him, “Do you fear me? That is the sign of those who love despair and darkness. Polion, such is the unhappy fruit of that solitude Where you seek comfort.

126 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И вот с людьми всегда каков бывает дик, Кто с ними видется и знать их непривык: Но те к самим себе почтенье вовсе губят, Которыя с людьми беседовать нелюбят. Ах! Естлиб люди все равнялися с тобой, Вещает Полион, яб друг им был прямой! Уединение мне страшнобы являлось, Коль сходноеб с тобой во свете что сыскалось; Видал я прелести приятных женских глаз, Не устремляя к ним вниманья ни на час, Мне лица в обществе прекрасныя встречались; Но очи у меня от них не помрачались, Я песни из слыхал, и нежный разговор, Не тронули меня ни речи их ни взор; Уста прелестныя и пламенныя взгляды, Мне меньше делали веселья, чем досады; И может быть как я влеком бывал в их сеть, И примечания от них немог иметь. А ныне взгляд один, твое едино слово, Произвели во мне в минуту чувство ново; Мне взор твой, речь твоя, твой стан и зрак твой мил; Конечно свет в тебе все прелести таил; И сердцу моему на плен и в утешенье, Невграде их скрывал, но здесь в уединенье? За то что прежде я красавицам не лстил; Твой взор, прекрасный взор, доволно мне отмстил; Те кои зрят его, тех только жизнь щастлива! Смотри, как первая любовь красноречива; И верь узнав сие, коль верить кто немог, Что сердце всякое сразит любови Бог. Увидя в нем любви жар страстный и безмерный, И нрава оборот почти неимоверный; Увидя спутников красавица в дали, Когда уже они путем открытым шли; Неделая досад, не умножая стопу, Рекла она, с лицем спокойным Полиону: Свободу скорую дал чувствам ты своим;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 127 Those who are unaccustomed to meeting and knowing people Will remain forever unsociable among them. But those who do not like conversing with people Utterly destroy respect for their own person.” “Ah! If only all people were your equal,” Proclaimed Polion, “I would be a great friend to them! If the like of you could be found in society, Then solitude would terrify me. I have seen the charms of amiable female eyes But paid them no mind. I saw beautiful faces in society, But my eyes did not mist over. I heard their songs and refined conversation; Neither their words nor their gaze touched me. Charming lips and ardent glances Gave me less pleasure than vexation. And if I was ever caught in their net, I myself did not take notice. But now one glance, a single word from you, Instantly brings forth a new feeling in me. I cherish your gaze, your speech, your figure, and your face. Has society concealed all its charms within you And, to capture and delight my heart, Hidden them not in the city, but here in seclusion? If previously I did not flatter beautiful women, Your gaze—a beautiful gaze—has sufficiently avenged that. Only those who see it can live a happy life!” See how eloquent is first love. And having understood this, believe what nobody could have believed: That the God of love strikes every heart. Seeing in him love’s passionate and limitless ardor And an almost unbelievable change in his temperament, The beautiful maiden spied her companions in the distance, Where they had already set out upon the open road. Not displaying vexation or increasing her step, She spoke calmly to Polion: “You gave quick liberty to your feelings.

128 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Узнать меня; умей быть другом ты моим; Советов таковых неставь себе в обиду, Умей узнать себя, коль хочеш знать Наиду. Мой дом стоит в близи жилища твоего, И может всяк войти без робости в него, Суровыя одни не входят в дом мой нравы! Приятной жизнь моя исполнена забавы; Ищи пути ко мне; и ты его найдешь, Коль к ближнему любовь за правило возьмешь; Прости! - - - Сказав сие, к подругам возвратилась. Уже горящая планета в Понт катилась, Предшественница всех мечтаниев и сна, Уже прохладная являася луна; И ризу мрачную раскинула с звездами; Земныя жители разстались со трудами, Един в смущении и в грусти Полион; Идущий в дом к себе, еще пускает стон; Премене собственной он сам в себе дивится; Незнает он итти, или остановится, Наиде следовать, или сокрытся в дом. В недоумении приходит таковом, И все, на что глаза он в доме нивозводит Ни что напрежнее уж ныне не походит. Уже является ему тот скучен лес, Который скрыл от глаз сияние небес, Огромность стен своих и мрак возненавидел, Он в поле может быть Наиду бы увидел, Увидел естлиб он препятств неставил сих; Стыдится прежних чувств, и мыслей он своих, Наиду у себя увидети в надежде, Жалеет о цветах, кругом растущих прежде; Желает диким он изчезнуть вдруг лесам; И прежним полевым везде цвести красам; Пастушкам хощет дать свободу прежню в поле, На коих, не цветов, ни игр невидно боле; Стыдится дикости кругом лежащих мест;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 129 If you wish to know me, learn to be my friend. Do not be offended by such counsel. Learn to know yourself if you wish to know Naiada.56 My home is close to your abode And anyone may enter it without fear. Only unsociable manners do not enter my home! My life is filled with pleasant amusement. Seek the path to me, and you shall find it If you take as your rule Love for your neighbor. Farewell!”—She said this and returned to her friends. Already the fiery planet rolled along the Pontus,57 That harbinger of all dreams and sleep. Already the cool moon appeared And scattered its dark robes from stars. Earth dwellers parted with their labors. Polion alone was anxious and dismayed. Walking home, he gave a moan. He marveled at the changes within him. He knew not whether to stop or go— To follow Naiada or hide in his home. He arrived home in this state of bewilderment. And there, no matter where he cast his eyes, Nothing looked as it did before. Now the forest, which concealed the shining heavens from his eyes, Seemed dreary to him. He despised the gloom and the enormous walls. Perhaps he might see Naiada in the field. He might have seen her had he not erected such obstacles. He was ashamed of his earlier thoughts and feelings. Hoping to receive Naiada in his home, He regretted the flowers that used to grow all around. He wished the wild forest would suddenly vanish And the field’s former beauties would bloom. He wanted to allow the shepherdesses their former freedom in the fields, Where neither flowers nor games were seen any longer. He was ashamed of his wild surroundings,

130 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Что в них покажется Наиде страшен въезд, И лзяли у него Наиде утешаться! Пришли часы любить, суровости чуждаться; Забыв развратное ученье Полион, Заснул в одре своем; и видит странный сон: Он видит вкруг себя волнующеся море, И носится по нем он в малой лодке вскоре; Вдали премножество явилось островов, Которых берега исполнены цветов; Там песни жителей при гласе трубном внемлет; Течет к ним, всяк его с веселием приемлет; Но только он успел войти в жилище их, Увидел он вражду, и злобу между них; С развратностью они друг о друге толкуют, Когда погибнет кто, тогда они ликуют; Законам следуя слепаго божества, О бедстве ближняго имеют торжества. Уходит Полион от сих людей развратных, Искати островов желанию приятных; Куда ни приставал, на что ни кинул взор, Везде убийства зрел, недружбу и раздор; Но остров никакий в дали ему являлся, К которому достичь он тщетно устремлялся; Горою каменной был остров окружен, Чрез кое трудный путь идущим проложен; Там страшныя во круг чудовища лежали, И камни дикие от рева их дрожали; В средине острова священный лес стоял, В нем тонкий свет в дали между древес сиял. Не смеет Полион ко острову коснуться, Страшася больше в нем чем в протчих, обмануться; И начал он ладью от брега отвращать, Намерясь островов морских не посещать; Но вдруг ударил гром, и ветры засвистали, Из мрачных облаков блистать перуны стали; Кидает ладию кипящая волна: Душа отчаяньем, мысль ужасом полна;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 131 Which would be a frightening sight to Naiada when she arrived. And was it possible for Naiada to enjoy herself at his home? The time had come to love, to avoid severity. Forgetting his corrupt education, Polion Fell asleep upon his bed and had a strange dream: He saw around him a troubled sea Upon which a small boat rapidly carried him. In the distance appeared The bright shores of numerous islands. At the trumpet’s call, he heard the inhabitants’ songs. He drifted toward them; everyone received him merrily. But just as he managed to enter their abode, He caught sight of enmity and malice in their midst. They spoke of each other with depravity. They celebrated when people perished. Following the law of the blind god,58 They triumphed in their neighbors’ misfortune. Polion departed from these depraved people To seek islands better suited to his wishes. No matter where he stepped; no matter where he glanced— Everywhere he saw murder, enmity, and discord. But in the distance appeared an island Which he vainly strived to reach. The island was surrounded by rocky mountains Through which a traveler had cleared a rough path. Frightening monsters were everywhere And their roar made the wild stones tremble. In the middle of the island stood a sacred forest. Within it a pale light shone in the distance amidst the trees. Polion dared not touch upon the island For fear of being deceived in it even more than in the others. And having no intention of visiting the islands of the sea, He began to turn his boat from the shore. But suddenly thunder roared and winds began to howl. Lightning began to flash from the dark clouds. A seething wave threw his boat: His soul filled with despair and his thoughts with terror.

132 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И чает вихрями во все страны носимый, Что в сем пути пришел конец необходимый. Но как уже он был в морское свержен дно, Не приняло его в гортань свою оно, И выбросив назад, к последния напасти Разбило ладию его на мелки части; Повергло там его на каменистый брег, Где виден мрак один, и вкруг глубокий снег. Однако облако к нему с небес спустилось, И светло божество очам его явилось: Почтенье возымев, нещастный страх отгнал; Во оном божестве Наиду он узнал, Которая подав ему спокойно руку, Рекла: “ты кончил путь, и кончил прежню муку; “Премудрость чистая, но щастливой судьбе, “Откроется за все терпение тебе. Сокрылись мраки вдруг, и ветры дуть не стали: Ему приятности природы все предстали; Но как премудрости достиг до храма он, То скрыл он от людей, тая во веки сон. Песнь пятая Уже Латонин сын лице свое являет, И пламенных коней к теченью направляет: Одушевляющий везде простерся жар; Проснулся, кажется, земный великий шар: Проснулся на нем мирския попеченья, Утехи и печаль, забавы, огорченья; Проснулись скучныя земныя суеты, Приятная любовь, проснулася и ты! Лесные жители Аврору воспевают; Цветы и древеса, и травки оживают; Златой одеждою сияют небеса; У стада слышатся пастушьи голоса. Уже порядок всей природы учредился, И пахарь для трудов приятных пробудился,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 133 Carried in all directions by the whirlwinds, He thought the inescapable end of his journey had arrived. But after being tossed into the depths of the sea, It did not take him into its jaws. After throwing him back to his final misfortune, It shattered his boat into tiny pieces. It threw him upon the stony shore Where only darkness and deep snow lay all around. But a cloud descended upon him from the heavens And a radiant goddess appeared before his eyes. He paid her respect; he chased away his ill-fated fear. In this goddess he recognized Naiada, Who spoke, calmly extending her arm toward him: “You have ended your journey and your former torment. In return for your forbearance, pure wisdom and a happy fate Will be revealed to you.” Suddenly the darkness lifted, and the winds ceased. All the pleasantness of nature presented itself to him. But how it was he attained the temple of wisdom— That he hid from people, forever concealing his dream. Canto Five Already Leto’s son59 shows his face And turns his fiery steeds towards his course. A refreshing warmth spreads everywhere. It seems the great earthly sphere has woken. Also woken are worldly cares, Delights, sadness, amusements, and grief. Winter’s dreary tasks have woken. Pleasant love, you too have woken! The forest dwellers extol Aurora.60 They revive flowers, trees, and grass. The heavens shine like golden vestments; Shepherds’ voices are heard near their flocks. Already nature’s order has been fully restored. The ploughman has woken for his pleasant labors;

134 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Пастушка для овец, для песней соловей, Для плаванья купец, охотник для зверей, Граждане для сует, злодеи для обиды, Проснулся Полион для страсти и Наиды. Изполнена его мечтаньями глава, И видит он еще морские острова; Еще злодействие ему людское зрится, И в яве хочет он от них к Наиде скрыться; В морских волнах еще желает утопать, Дабы Наидою избавиться опять; В уме священный лес и храмы представляет; Но больше о красах Наиды размышляет, И сна чудеснаго толкуя существо, В Наиде некое находит божество, Влекуще прочь его от прежних скучных правил. Любовью распален, чертоги он оставил, И представляет он в обители своей Жилище злых духов, и ядовитых змей. Забыв суровости и добродетель строгу, Пустился в новыя желанья и дорогу. Но как любовь его ни жалила ни жгла, Не мыслил он еще, чтоб то любовь была; И чаял, что искал с Наидой пребыванья Не для красот ея, но сна для толкованья, И с нею повторять вчерашни речи вновь; Но чтоже ето все, когда не есть любовь? Кто видит сны о ком, кто все утехи губит, Когда не вместе с кем, тот верно страстно любит! Лишь только Полион взглянул на лес густой, Где встретился вчера с разумной красотой, Вздохнул! и воздохнув еще он лицемерит, И что влюбился он, еще тому неверит. Воспомнил, что вчера Сенеку там забыл; Но больше уж его он правил не любил; Не хочет для него минут терять напрасно, И думает еще, что любит он не страсно. Свободою себя в неволе веселя,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 135 The shepherdess for sheep; the nightingale for song; The merchant for sailing; the hunter for beasts; Citizens for their chores, villains for their insults. Polion woke for his passion and for Naiada. His head was filled with dreams And he still saw the islands of the sea. People’s evil deeds still appeared to him. And awake, he wished to steal away from them to Naiada. He wished to drown once more in the ocean waves, That he might again be saved by Naiada. He imagined the sacred forest and the temples. But most of all, he contemplated Naiada’s beauty And, trying to interpret the meaning of that marvelous dream, He realized that Naiada was a kind of deity Who drew him away from his previous dreary principles. Inflamed by love, he abandoned the manse. And his own dwelling now seemed to him An abode of evil spirits and venomous serpents. Forgetting severity and strict virtue, He set upon a new path and toward new desires. But since his love neither stung nor burned him, He still did not believe that it was love And thought that he sought Naiada Not because of her beauty, but for an explanation of his dream And to repeat anew yesterday’s conversation with her. But then what was all this if not love? If a man dreams of a woman and his every pleasure is destroyed When not in her company, then surely he loves passionately! As soon as Polion looked into the dense forest Where yesterday he had encountered the clever beauty, He sighed! And sighing again, he dissembled And still did not believe that he had fallen in love. He recalled that yesterday he had forgotten Seneca there. But he no longer loved his principles. He did not wish to lose another minute on him in vain. Yet still he believed that he did not love passionately. Held captive, he reassured himself that he was free.

136 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Вступил в обильныя Наидины поля; Там рощи чистыя, долины там цветущи, Там видны жители, приятну жизнь поющи, Там пахарь щастливый не чувствует трудов, Там разных видимы веселости родов, Как будто убежав оне от Полиона, Живут в пределах сих спокойствия у трона; Там нимфы сельския у чистых быстрых вод Заводят беганье, заводят каравод; Стада, источники, и все луга умильны, Плодами вкруг поля и щастием обильны; Под тению древес венки пастушки вьют, И добродетели Наидины поют. Забавы Полион и радости всречает, И видеть остров тот, куда был свержен, чает; Где таинства свои открыло Естество, И где явилося в Наиде божество; Суровость острова, и встречу в оном злобну, Жилищу своему находит он подобну. На сих полях пример встречая дней златых, Он льстился обрести Астрею ныне в них; И мыслит, что назад поворотились веки, Как спал с овечкой волк, со львами человеки; Но чая видети Минерву в части сей, Не мудрости искал, Наидиных очей; Искал он прелестей душе его прятных. Любовь! научишь ты и самых непонятных, Прельщаться, говорить и чувствовать уметь; Во Полионе льзя пример тому иметь; Хотя сердце разишь, хотя умы смущаешь, Любовь! любовь! ты нас мгновенно просвещаешь. В недоумении, в волнении таком, Всупает Полион в Наидин сельский дом; Там рощи, там сады, и прелести премноги, Как будтоб были то волшебные чертоги; Вода ко облакам текущая гремит, Там инде во траве прозрачный ключ шумит;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 137 He stepped into Naiada’s abundant fields: There pure groves and blossoming valleys could be found. There reapers could be seen singing their pleasant life. There the happy ploughman did not feel his labors. There all sorts of merriments could be seen. As if running away from Polion, They reside in these parts near the throne of serenity. There, by the clear running waters, country nymphs Play games; they start the khorovod.61 Sweet were the flocks, streams, and all the meadows. Everywhere the fields were abundant in fruit and happiness. Under the shady trees shepherdesses wove wreathes And sang Naiada’s virtues. Polion encountered amusements and joys And thought he was seeing the island where he had been cast; Where the natural world had revealed its secrets And where the divine had appeared in Naiada. He thought the harsh island and his ill-fated encounter there Were similar to his own abode. Encountering examples from golden ages in these fields, He deceived himself that he might find Astrea62 there And thought the centuries had rolled back to a time When the lamb slept with the wolf and people with lions. But expecting to see Minerva63 in these parts, He sought not wisdom, but Naiada’s eyes. He sought beauties that his soul found pleasing. Love! You teach even the most uncomprehending people To be enchanted, to learn how to speak and feel. Polion serves as an example: Although you strike hearts, although you disturb minds— Love! Love! You instantly enlighten us. Bewildered and agitated, Polion entered Naiada’s rustic home. There were such groves, gardens, and delights— ’Twas like an enchanted palace. Water roared, flowing toward the clouds.64 Somewhere in the grass a clear brook babbled.

138 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Цветы узорчатой блистают красотою; Все вкупе нежною прельщает простотою. Лишь только приступил к чертогам Полион, Чистосердечием во дверях встречен он; У одности любовь, приветствия и радость, Наидиной ему являют жизни сладость; И руку дружество входящему дает, И кажется не в дом, на небеса ведет; Везде прятныя желания и виды. Таким путем предстал перед глаза Наиды, И видит щастие цветуще вкруг нее; Иль видит божество в Наиде он свое; И кажется ему, что он во храме оном, Где зрел стоящую Наиду перед троном. Смотрите, до чего слепа любовна страсть! К ногам Наидиным хотел нещастный пасть; Но вдруг в объятиях себя Наиды видит. “Учтивства лишния ум здравый ненавидит, “Оставим здесь чины, она ему рекла: “Тебя как друга я, не как раба, звала; “Забыв умеренность, и простоту драгую, “Из крайности одной приходишь во другую: “Или виня людей скрываешся от них, “Или богам опять уподобляешь их. “Развартных я людей как прежде ненавижу, “Вещает Полион; но здесь Богиню вижу, “Премудрость и любовь с которою живет; “Которой должен весь повиноваться свет. Приятны мне стези и виды здесь явленны: Веселием твои поля одушевленны, Мне зрится щастие ходяще здесь в венце, У всех написано спокойство на лице; Цветок в твоих лугах и травка веселится; Везде Астреин век исчез, но здесь он длится. Мне сон мой предсказал, что бог не смертна ты, И подтверждают то мной зримы красоты; Блаженство проливать, сердцам давать спокойство,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 139 Delicately patterned flowers shone with beauty. Everything enchanted in its simplicity. Just as Polion approached the manse, He was met at the doors by purity of heart. These greetings and joy were enough To show him the sweetness of Naiada’s life. And friendship extended an arm to the guest And seemed to lead him not into the house but to the heavens. Everywhere there were pleasant wishes and vistas. Thus he appeared before Naiada’s eyes And saw happiness blossoming around her. Or was it his own divine essence he saw in Naiada? And it seemed he was in that same temple Where he had seen Naiada standing before the throne. Behold to what extent love’s passion is blind! This unfortunate wished to fall at Naiada’s feet. But suddenly he found himself in Naiada’s embrace: She said to him, “A sound mind disdains superfluous politeness. Let us here abandon rank. I have called you here as a friend, not as a slave. Forgetting moderation and precious simplicity, You go from one extreme to the other. Or blaming others, you hide from them Or again liken them to gods.” Polion declared: “As before, I despise depraved people, But here I see a goddess With whom wisdom and love reside; To whom the whole world should submit. I find pleasing the paths and vistas here: Merriment refreshes your fields. Here I see happiness crowned. All people have peace written on their faces. The flower and the blade of grass make merry in your fields. Everywhere the age of Astrea65 has vanished, but here it continues. My dream foretold that you were a goddess, not a mortal, And the beauties I see confirm this. To dispense happiness, grant hearts tranquility—

140 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Не человечее, то божеское свойство! Когдаж ты смертная, подобная другим, То где училась ты премудростям таким, Которыя успех имеют здесь отменной, Среди изпорченных людей жить и вселенной? Наида, правила свои храня, рекла: Я ближним никогда злодейкой не была, И тайну к щастию сию употребила, Что благо я свое во благе их любила; Не возмущая чувств, забавы их любя, Благополучными их вижу и себя. Но ты в каких местах познал сию науку, Которая твой дух и мысли ввергла в муку, Кто сеял у тебя отраву ту в крови, Что человеческий не стоит род любви; В каком училище твой разум так питали, Что свет и люди все тебе противны стали? Напомня ложное ученье Полион, Едва опять во мрак не возратился он; Проснулись в памяти ему доводы милы; Ученье первое имеет много силы! Суровы правила мечтаются ему, И за руки схватив хотят привлечь во тму; В Наиде лютую явят ему Цирцею, Которая была ужасна Одиссею; И представляется ему она в сей час, Имеюща морских Сирен прилестный глас; Колеблется, молчит, желает удалиться, И злится на себя, и на Наиду злится; Однако брошенный един Наидин взгляд, Мгновенно у него из сердца вынул яд; Суровость с онаго свалилась будто камень, Почувствовал в груди приятный некий пламень, Который, как пожар, лишь только зачался, У Полиона вдруг по чувствам разлился. Смущен и трепетен к Наиде он подходит, Но приближение в нем смелость производит:

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 141 ’Tis not human, but divine! If you are mortal like other people, Then where did you acquire the wisdom, Which succeeds so well here, Of living among corrupt people in the world?” Naiada, maintaining her principles, spoke: “I was never an enemy to my neighbor And fortunately, I made use of this secret: I cherish their blessings as my own. Not disturbing their feelings and cherishing their amusements, I consider them fortunate and myself as well. Where did you become acquainted with that learning Which cast your spirit and thoughts into torment? Who filled your blood with such poison— The notion that the human race is unworthy of love? In what school was your reason so nourished That you began to find society and all people repulsive?” Polion, recalling that false education, Almost returned to his gloom. Arguments that were dear to him awoke in his memory: Our first education holds great power! Those principles appeared to him as in a dream And, grasping him by the arm, tried to draw him into darkness. They made him see Naiada as the ferocious Circe,66 Who was so terrible to Odysseus. And at that moment she seemed to Have the Sirens’67 enchanting voice. He wavered, fell silent, wished to withdraw, And was angry with himself and angry with Naiada. But a single glance from Naiada Instantly removed the poison from his heart: Severity fell from it like a stone. In his chest he felt a kind of pleasant flame, Which, like a fire, had only just ignited When it suddenly poured forth into Polion’s feelings. Agitated and trembling, he approached Naiada. But this proximity emboldened him.

142 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Забыл, он рек, я все науки и себя; Быть щастливым хочу учиться у тебя, Да будут мне тобой те правила внушенны, Как тех людей любить, которы развращенны. Прости им слабости, ответсвует она: Премудрость примирять со всеми нас должна; Она против людей сердец не отравляет, Без ссоры учит их, без брани исправляет; В спокойствии свои она проводит дни, Хоть кажутся светлы, хоть пасмурны они. Тебе понятие о всех вещах вручили, Однако знать себя и ближних неучили; Благополучну здесь и мудру прямо быть, Так должно знать себя и всех людей любить; Когда учения стези тебе явили, Старались о уме, не сердце исправляли; Ученье пагубно и тщетно без того; Вот главная вина мученья твоего; Ученых грубый нрав для света безполезен, Будь людям нежный друг, коль хочешь быть любезен. В беседе таковой, в прятностях таких, На крыльях радости летят минуты их, И кажется уже седящу Полиону, Что он перенесен оттоле к Геликону: Отверстые врата во храм Палладин зрит, И будто с Музами во оном говорит. Скажи мне таинство, вскричал он в восхищенье, Где ты, и как нашла такое просвещенье? Меня учение влекло в единый мрак; Иль мой рассудок туп, иль я учен нетак. Я слышал важныя слова и рассужденья, В сих малостях нашел великия сумненья! Познати истину, ответсвует ему, От мыслей отгони науки прежней тму; Забудь их имена, порядок, толкованье, И прежнее среди вертепов пребыванье; Очистись от всего, как вновь ты родился.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 143 He said, “I have forgotten myself and all my learning. I want to study with you how to be happy. You will instill in me principles That will teach me to love depraved people.” She responded: “Forgive their weaknesses. Wisdom should reconcile us with everyone. It does not poison our hearts against people. It teaches without argument; it corrects without abuse. It spends its days peacefully, Whether they be bright or overcast. You were granted an understanding of everything. But you were not taught to know yourself or your neighbor. To be happy and fully wise You must know yourself and love everyone. When learning showed you its path, It was concerned with the mind; it did not correct the heart. Without this, learning is vain and pernicious. Such is the main cause of your torment. The rude temperament of scholars is of no use to society: If you want to be loved, be a tender friend to people. In conversation and pleasantness, The minutes fly on wings of joy.” And it seemed to Polion, who remained seated, That he had been transported to Helicon:68 He saw the open gates of Palladium’s69 temple And ’twas as though he spoke with the Muses therein. “Tell me the secret,”—he called out in exaltation,— “Where and how did you find such enlightenment? Learning only drew me into darkness. Or is my reason dull? Or have I been educated in the wrong way? I heard weighty words and reasoning. I discerned great notions in those minutiae!” “In order to know truth,” she answered him, “Chase the darkness of that former education from your thoughts. Forget their names, order, meaning, And your previous sojourn in the den of iniquity. Cleanse yourself of everything as if you were born anew.”

144 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Забыть все, но ее лишь помнить он клялся! Наида просвещать его не преставала, И духа к бодрости еще увещавала, И так ему рекла: коль будешь дерзновен, На век останешся ты мраком покровен; Коль будешь робок ты, от света удалишся, Погубишь все на век, чем ныне веселишся; Умерен, терпелив, и скромен быть умей. Дал клятву Полион послушен быти ей; Наида взяв его трепещущую руку, Во храм свой повела, открыть свою науку. Храм**3оный на горе в тени древес стоит, Прекрасно здание имеет круглый вид; Стезями тайными они к нему приходят; Признаки некие ко дверям храма водят. Ты здесь увидишь то, Наида говорит, Что разум у тебя и чувства озарит; Дерзай; и вдруг врата ко храму отворились! Ко удивлению в нем чувства устремились: На что свои глаза ни обращает он, Повсюду новое встречает Полион! Живое на стенах он зрит изображенье, Влекущее весь ум в священное движенье. Изображенно там во славе Божество; Непостижимое такое Существо Не тот имеет знак, не те имеет виды, Какие он видал не в храме у Наиды; Во всяком бытии является Творец, Он любит смертных род, как чад своих Отец; Не сей ужасный Бог, который отомщает; Но тот, который всех покоит и прощает. Природы видит он приятну наготу; В союзе всех вещей едину простоту, Которая дня нас всечасно помраченна, За тем что ризою науки облеченна; И таинства ея скрываются от нас, ** Здесь разумеется Здравый Разсудок [author’s footnote].

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 145 He vowed to forget everything and to remember only her! Naiada did not cease to enlighten him And exhorted his spirit to cheerfulness And spoke to him thus: “If you are impudent, You will remain forever cloaked in darkness. If you are timid and withdraw from society, You will ruin forever everything that brings you happiness. Learn to be moderate, patient, and modest.” Polion vowed to obey her. Naiada, taking his trembling hand, Led him into her temple to reveal her own learning. This temple††4 stands on a hill in the shade of trees. The beautiful building is shaped like a circle. They arrived there by secret paths. Some signs lead to the doors of the temple. Naiada said, “Here you will see Things that will enlighten your reason and feelings. Take heart!”—and suddenly the gates of the temple opened! To his surprise, feelings surged within him: Wheresoever he turned his eyes, There Polion encountered novelty! He saw on the walls living images Which focused one’s whole mind on their sacred movement. God was depicted there in His glory: That unfathomable Being Had a different aspect, a different image Than what he had seen before he had entered Naiada’s temple. The Creator appeared in every being. He loved the mortal race as a Father loves his children. He was not a terrible God who avenges, But one who protects and forgives everyone. Polion saw the pleasantness of unadorned nature. In the coming together of all things he saw a unified simplicity That is constantly ruined for us Because it is clouded by the cloak of learning. And nature’s mysteries are concealed from us †† Here we have in mind Sound Reason [author’s footnote].

146 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova За тем что требуют они разумных глаз; Но здесь является лице ея прекрасно, И все ея черты изображенны ясно. В степени человек своей изображен, Который быть бы мог на свете сем блажен; Но ради он того в пределах сих нещастен, Что сам он враг себе, и гордости подвластен; Однако есть ему к спокойствию стезя, Которую узнать с пороками нельзя. Там к ясныя черте все вещи обращенны; Не мрачны кажутся и таинства священны; Все то, что вымыслом и баснями зовут, Сияет без цветов в природных видах тут: Там ветров бурная Еолово пещера, И в ад Улиссово хожденье у Гомера, За брань Троянскую между Богов раздор, Их раны, и коней геройских разговор, Имеют чистое свое знаменованье. Наида сделала вещам истолкованье, Началу Естества, и действию богов, И мир весь Полион, и свет увидел нов; Познал природы всей закон и соплетенье; И к ней почувствовал, и сам к себе, почтенье! Но вдруг явилcя свет, подобный трем шарам, Он ближе к ним подшел; и се померк весь храм! Постигнути сего ни ты ни я не вольны, Наида говорит: но будем сим довольны. Тебя рука моя еще сюда введет; Но будь достоин ты увидеть новый свет; Излишне знание для душ нетвердых бремя; Пойдем, покоиться и веселиться время. Наполнен мыслями выходит Полион, И верит, что ходил доднесь во мраке он! Напрасно светом те науки почитают, С которыми вражда и злоба обитают. Но гдеже книги те, вскричал он вне себя, Которы сделали премудрою тебя?

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 147 Because they require a rational eye. But its beautiful face was displayed here And all its features were depicted clearly. Man was depicted as he truly is: He could be blessed in this world, But is unhappy because He is subject to pride and an enemy to himself. But he has a path to serenity— One impossible to find by vice. All things are clear there. Even sacred mysteries are not murky. Everything that we call invention and fable Shone there naturally and unadorned: They clearly understood Aeolus’s stormy cave of winds,70 Homer’s Ulysses descending into hell,71 The gods’ discord over the battle of Troy, Their wounds, and the speech of their heroic steeds.72 Naiada explained these things— The origins of nature and of the gods’ power. And Polion saw the whole world anew: He understood the laws and connection of everything in nature. And he felt respect for her and for himself! But suddenly three spheres of light appeared. He stepped closer and the whole temple went dark! Naiada said, “Neither you nor I are at liberty to fathom this, But let us be content with that. My arm still leads you hither; But make yourself worthy of seeing a new world. Excessive knowledge burdens unsteady souls. Let us go. ’Tis time to rest and make merry.” Deep in thought, Polion exited, And believed that until now he had gone about in darkness! In vain does the world revere the kind of learning That harbors enmity and malice. “But,” he called out, beside himself, “where are the books That made you wise?”

148 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Те книги, та речет, которы я читаю, Суть вещи зримыя, межь коих обитаю; Печатаны они рукою Божества, Не в буквах состоят, в глаголах Естества; Хотя Учеными бывают и презрены, Но каждому они из смертных отворенны. Спросил он: где ты ключ сыскала таинств сих? Она ответсвует: ты сам познал бы их, Другими книгами коль не был бы разтроен; Ты в мраке родился, ученьем мрак удвоен; Но где я ключ нашла Натуры в светлый дом, И что сей значит храм, не спрашивай о том, Коль хочешь быти сих сокровищей владетель; Буть кроток, терпелив, и помни добродетель. Едва они с горы в прекрасный сад сошли, Где ароматныя деревья вкруг цвели; Натура разослав лазореву порфиру, Велела нежному благоухать Зефиру; Довольство реки льет, отверста грудь ее, И все веселости луикуют вкруг нее. Наида кажется ни будет где являться, Все станет разцветать, и все одушевляться. При сладком пении, при гласе нежных лир, Устроен был для них в тени древесной пир; И все приятные кругом приемлет виды, Куда ни кинется прелестный взор Наиды; Там водит искренность веселий хор рукой, Обнявшись ходят там и щастье, и покой; Там видны жители четами вкруг седящи, И добродетели Наидины гласящи; Являют пляскою спокойный дух они, К Наиде их любовь и безпечальны дни; Везде веселыя и радостныя лица; Наида всем им друг, и всех сердец Царица. Приятно пиршество вкушая Полион, В трапезе у Богов сидети чает он; Везде встречаются ему небесны виды,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 149 She said, “The books I read Are the tangible things among which I reside. They are printed by the hand of God. They are comprised not of letters, but of nature’s words. Although despised by learned people, They are accessible to every mortal.” He asked, “Where did you find the key to these mysteries?” She responded: “You yourself would have known them Had you not been damaged by other books. You were born into darkness, one made still darker by education. But do not ask where I found the key to Nature’s bright house Or what this temple means. If you wish to be master of all these treasures, Be humble, be patient, and remember virtue.” Hardly had they descended the hill to the beautiful garden, Where aromatic trees blossomed all around, When Nature, having spread her azure porphyry, Commanded tender Zephyr to spread fragrance. Contentment opened its heart and poured forth like a river. And all merriments rejoiced around her. It seemed that wheresoever Naiada appeared, There everything began to blossom and everything was refreshed. Amidst the sweet singing and the song of tender lyres A forest feast was arranged for them in the shade. And all around everything assumed a pleasant aspect. Wheresoever Naiada cast her charming glance, There a choir of Good Cheer led Sincerity by the hand. Embracing each other, happiness and peace strolled about. The inhabitants could be seen in pairs all around, Extolling Naiada’s virtues. Dancing, they expressed their tranquil spirit, Their love for Naiada, and their carefree days. Everywhere there were merry and joyous faces. Naiada was a friend to all and queen of all hearts. Polion, savoring the pleasant feast, Imagined he was at a meal for the gods: Everywhere heavenly vistas greeted him.

150 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Такая ворожба во взорах у Наиды! Переменили в нем они все чувства вдруг, И сделали что он стал нежный людям друг. Но вечер наступил: с Наидой он простился, Оставил сердце тут, и в дом свой возвратился. Все мысли заняты Наидой у нево, Во удивление приводит все ево; И разность правил тут и жизней их увидел, Свое учение уже возненавидел; Но как желает всяк тому подобен быть, И в жизни подражать, кто стал ково любить, Из мыслей прежною свою изгнав науку, Намерен Полион изгнать из дома скуку; Полям веселости и рощам возвращать, Цветы отдать лугам, пастушек не смущать. Узнав, что больше нет в его селеньях стона, Пришли к нему опять Церера и Помона: Оне в поля его престол перенесли, И класы желтые на нивах возрасли, Плоды на древесах; взыграли быстры воды; И все приятности открылися природы. Уверился теперь смягченный Полион, Что воспитанием был весь разстроен он; Твердя Наидины слова и разговоры, Узнал, что свет дает душам прекрасны взоры. Он каждый день свою богиню посещал, Ея беседою свой разум просвещал. Она уверясь в нем, а он прельщенный ею, Соединилися и телом и душею. Во просвещении, во щастии таком, Он друга своего из града призвал в дом: Поведал он ему вину и приключенье, Когда он прежнее, и как, отверг ученье! Ерот, который глаз с плененных не спускал, В средине воздуха руками возплескал; И видя в мире сем своей обширность власти,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 151 There was such magic in Naiada’s glances! They suddenly transformed all his feelings And made him a tender friend to people. But evening arrived: He bid farewell to Naiada. He left his sweetheart there and returned to his house. All his thoughts were occupied with Naiada. All of this surprised him— He had seen there the difference in their principles and lives. He had already come to despise his own education. But just as everyone who falls in love Wishes to be like his beloved and imitate her in his own life, So, having chased that previous learning from his thoughts, Polion intended to chase boredom from his house; To return merriment to the fields and groves; To give the meadows back their flowers; to not disturb the shep­herd-­­­ esses. When they learned that there was no longer moaning in his villages, Pomona and Ceres came back to him: They carried a throne to his fields And yellow ears grew there. Fruit grew on the trees; the rapid waters were playful, And the full pleasantness of nature was revealed. Now a softened Polion was certain That he had been utterly damaged by his upbringing. Repeating Naiada’s words and conversations, He learned that society makes our souls beautiful. Every day he visited his goddess And enlightened his mind with her conversation. She, assured of him; and he, enchanted by her, Were united together in body and soul. Happy and enlightened, He invited his friend from the city to visit. He explained his error and How he had overthrown his previous education! Eros, who did not take his eye off his captives, Clapped his hands in the air And, seeing the expanse of his power in the world, said,

152 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Сказал: полезняй нет сердечной в мире страсти! Она умы дает, студену греет кровь; И там сияет свет, где царствует любовь! Ироиды74 Ироиды музам посвященныя О Музы! Вы мой дух ко песням всламeните, И пола вашего вы голосу внемлите! Во древни времена, Российская страна, В невежество была, во мрак погружена. Жилища вашего тогда не досязали, И тернием пути к Парнасу заростали. Парнаский огонь еще Сердец не вспламенял, К составу песен дух восторгом не пылал: Но в мрачности такой Россия озарилась, И Лиры красота в пределах сих явилась. Невежество у нас в презрении лежит, Российския страны незнание бежит, И просвещению Державу уступают. Ваш глас, приятный глас, сердца у всех пленяет. В кратчайши времена Россия процвела, - - Расинов, Пиндаров, она произвела. ЕКАТЕРИНИН век те ныне воспевают, Премудрыя дела в безсмертие включают. На Росскую страну вселенна мещет взор, Прославь ея, прославь, прекрасных Муз собор! Се в наши времена златыя зрятся веки, Кастальския текут с Парнасса к Россам реки; И чтобы окружать священных Муз престол, То начал воспевать у нас и женский пол: Они ко нежностям во песнях прибегают, И добродетелям венцы приготовляют. С приятностью они веселости поют, И действие страстей почувстововать дают. В России видимы, Сапфоны, де ла Сюзы, За ними я стремлюсь: … О вы прекрасны музы!

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 153 “There is nothing more useful in the world than the heart’s passion! It grants intelligence; it warms our freezing blood. And wheresoever love reigns, there society’s light shines!”73 Heroides Heroides Dedicated to the Muses O Muses! Enflame my spirit toward song And harken the voice of your sex! In ancient times the Russian land Lay in ignorance, mired in darkness.75 We had not yet attained your abode And our path to Parnassus was overgrown with thorns. Parnassian fire did not yet enflame our hearts. Our spirits did not burn with rapture to compose songs. But in that gloom Russia glowed as at dawn And the lyre’s beauty appeared in these parts. We despise ignorance. Ignorance flees the Russian lands And cedes its power to Enlightenment. Your pleasant voice captivates every heart. How quickly Russia has blossomed— She has produced Racines and Pindars.76 They now sing the age of CATHERINE.77 They enter wise deeds into immortality. The world casts its glance at the Russian land. O host of beautiful Muses, glorify her! Glorify her! A golden age78 can be seen in our time. Castalian79 rivers flow from Parnassus to the people of Rus’.80 The female sex here has also begun to sing, That women might surround the sacred Muses’ throne. Their songs turn to tenderness And prepare crowns for virtue. They sing pleasantly of merriment And allow us to feel the power of passion. In Russia we see Sapphos81 and de le Suzes.82 I rush after them … O you, beautiful Muses!

154 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Ко ободрению, для песен красоты, Разсыпьте предо мной Парнасския цветы! Врачебною водой вы Лиру окропите, И мне ее теперь из ваших рук пошлите. Потщуся мысль мою я с вами согласить, Потщуся песнь мою пред вами возгласить. С холмистых гор ко мне вы взоры обратите; И глас, мой робкой глас, коль можно ободрите. С великодушием внимайте песнь мою: О Музы! я для вас, на Лире воспою. Зеида к Леандру Жестокой! вся твоя неверность мне открылась, Напасть моя твоим спокойствием свершилась. То сердце, что ты мне на веки посвятил, Похитил у меня, другой его вручил, Ты истинну, и честь, и верность нарушаешь, Ко браку приступить с Визорою дерзаешь. Священны права те, принадлежали мне! Мучитель! обитал когда ты в сей стране, Мне верным быть по смерть, клялся пред небесами, Конечно клятву ту внимали Боги сами, Ты нежную любовь увы! самих Богов, Неверный раздражил! разрывом тех оков Воспомни! что тебе их нежность составляла, Их верность силою своею укрепляла, Измена крепость их должнали колебать? Но ты прибегнул к ней дабы тиранном стать. Когда свирепою назначенной судьбою, Внезапно должен был растаться ты со мною, Коликия тогда мучения терпел! Всем жертвовать увы! Зеиде ты хотел, Противу рока ты отважно ополчался, В отчаянье своем с самой судьбой сражался; Презрев ея предел, хотел пресечь свой путь, Ты рек; погибни все, со мной Зеида будь!

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 155 Scatter the Parnassian flowers before me, That I might gain your approval and adorn my songs! Now sprinkle the lyre with healing water And send it forth from your hands to me. I will strive to reconcile my thoughts with yours. I will strive to proclaim my song before you. From the mountain peaks, turn your gaze toward me And encourage my timid voice as you may! With generous condescension, harken my song: O Muses! For you I will sing out on my lyre. Zeida to Leander83 Cruel man! I have discovered your betrayal. My misfortune has ensured your serenity. You stole from me your heart, which you had dedicated to me forever, And entrusted it to another. You violate truth, honor, and fidelity. You dare enter into marriage with Vizora. Those sacred rights belonged to me! Tormentor! When you dwelled in this land You vowed to the heavens to be faithful to me unto death. Surely the Gods themselves heard that vow. Alas! Unfaithful man, by breaking those bonds You angered tender love and the gods themselves. Remember! Tenderness forged those bonds for you; Fidelity’s strength reinforced them. Should treachery shake their inviolability? But you resorted to it, that you might become a tyrant. When you were forced by a cruel destiny To part suddenly with me, What torments you endured! Alas! You wished to sacrifice everything for Zeida. You courageously took up arms against fate. Despairing, you battled destiny itself. Disdaining its power, you wished to cut short your path. You spoke: Let everything perish that Zeida might stay with me!

156 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Со мной тебе печаль казалась облехченна. А радость без меня щиталась умерщвленна. Мне жизнь моя была мила лишь для того, Что ты источник зрел в ней щастья своего, Подобно я в твоей все благо почитала, То кончилось теперь … Мне жизнь противна стала. Представь себе представь, ты тот жестокой час, Как зрeл Зеиду ты уже в послeдней раз. Прощаясь до чего твои простерлись муки! В своей крови хотел омыть свои ты руки. В объятия мои повергся и стенал, Подобной моему ток слезной проливал. Не льзя, чтоб слезы те притворство извлекало, Прямую нежность чувств рыдание казало. Умел со мною ты равно тогда любить; Но только не умел равно мне верен быть. Зря нежности твои сугубо я терзалась, А сим терзанием любовь усугублялась, И горестей сносить не доставало сил; Но ты, отчаянье надеждой усладил. Твердил ты мне, что дни разлуки сократятся, Что жизни моей утехи возвратятся, Что радость потечет за муками во след, Что сердце верное, всю нежность принесет; А я нещастная любовию пылая, Измены твоея себе я непредставляя, Отраду чувствиям умела подавать, И время радости с восторгом ожидать; То сердце, что любви не хочет изменити, Лехко ея слова умеет утвердити, Не трудно было в том Зеиду обмануть, Я верила всему … Но сей желанный путь, Уже бы должен был в страну сию свершиться, Пришли мне времена свиданием польститься. Пришли они … Но ах! Тебя еще все нет. Назначенное мне веселье не течет. Не знала бедная что мыслить было должно,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 157 With me you found your grief assuaged, And without me your joy destroyed. I held my life dear only because You saw it as the fount of your own happiness, Just as I thought all my blessings resided in yours. Now all that has ended … My life has become loathsome to me. Imagine that terrible moment When you saw Zeida for the last time. As you bid farewell, how far did your torments extend! You wished to bathe your hands in your own blood. You threw yourself into my embraces and moaned. You shed a stream of tears just like mine. Pretense could not have forced those tears. Your sobs showed true tender feelings. Back then your love was equal to mine But your faithfulness was not. Seeing your tender feelings, my suffering increased. And through this suffering my love deepened. There was not strength enough to endure such grief, But you lightened despair with hope. You kept saying that these days of separation would end, That pleasure would return to my life, That gladness would follow after these torments, That a faithful heart bears great tenderness. And I, unfortunate woman, Burning with love, not imagining your treachery, Found comfort in your words And awaited with rapture that moment of joy. A heart that does not wish to betray love Can easily repeat its words. It was not difficult to deceive Zeida. I believed everything… But that long-awaited return to this land Should already have occurred. The time had come to reassure myself with hopes of a meeting. The time arrived . . but, ah! Still you were not here. My expected merriment did not come to pass. Poor woman, I knew not what to think.

158 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Измены вобразить мне было не возможно. И горестью томясь прискорбна мысль моя, Страшилась строгия судьбины твоея; Способна я была изобратать напасти, И ужасалася твоей суровой части. Мне мнилось, что тебя похитил грозный рок, Кaзaлось, поглотил волною быстрый ток, Иль руки варварски мечом тебя пронзили,  Иль мысли томныя отчаяньем сразили,  Трепещуща гоню ужасну мысль сию,  Объемлет новый страх стесненну грудь мою. Представлю я себе, что точная притчина  Медленья твоего, безпечность лишь едина.  Но только в том тебя я дерзко обвиню, В минуту саму ту опять и извиню,  Смущалася, рвалась роптала и робела,  Сомнения решить ни чем я не умела; Но сей жестокой день все бедствия решил,  Внимай! Как случай мне напасть мою открыл. Сия последня нощь покров свой испустила,  И мрачностью места вселенныя покрыла;  Но бледный свет луны ту мрачность проникал;  Сиянье слабое, на землю ниспускал. Небесный свод тогда звездами испещрялся, По Горизонту свет тончайший простирался,  Присудствует везде нощная тишина,  Мирских сует вся тварь, была свобождена,  Покоилося все, в природе все молчало;  Лишь сердце нежное в Зеиде волновало,  И чувства томныя всей силой возстеня,  Не долускали быть в спокойствии меня.  О ты! Унылых душ сладчайше облехченье!  Тобой лишь может быть забвенно огорченье, Приятный сон! и ты нещастныя бежал!  Стенанья моево и ты не прерывал!  Тобою может дух от бремя свобождаться,  И время жизни дней возможет сокращатья. 

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 159 I could not imagine betrayal. And my sorrowful thoughts, languishing in grief, Feared for your cruel fate. I was susceptible to imagining misfortune And was terrified at your harsh lot. I fancied terrible fate had stolen you. It seemed a rapid current had swallowed you in its waves Or barbarian hands had pierced you with a sword Or sad thoughts had struck you with despair. Trembling, I chased away these terrible thoughts. A new fear seized my uneasy breast. I imagined the real reason For your delay was indifference alone. But the very moment I impudently accused you, I would again forgive you. I lamented, grumbled, cowered, and raged. Nothing could resolve my doubts. But one cruel day confirmed all these woes— Hear how chance revealed my misfortune to me! That final night let down its mantle And covered the world in darkness. But the moon’s pale light penetrated the darkness And set down its feeble radiance upon the earth. At that moment the heavenly vault was dotted with stars And a most delicate light extended along the horizon. Everywhere nocturnal silence was in attendance. All creation was free from worldly vanity. All was calm; in nature all was silent. Only Zeida’s tender heart was agitated And languid feelings, moaning with all their power, Gave me no peace. O you! That sweet relief of despondent souls! Only you can make us forget grief. Pleasant sleep! You too ran from an unfortunate woman! You too did not interrupt my moans! You are able to free the spirit from its burdens And shorten our time on earth.

160 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Полезно в горестях прибегнути к тебе,  Но ты влечешь сердца спокойныя к себе. А тот кто в бедствиях гоним своей судьбою  Оставлен навсегда бывает и тобою. В мечтяньях не была Зеида ни на час  И орошалася потоками из глаз, Уж стали изчезать красы приятной ночи А не смыкалися еще слезящи очи. Отраду я мою сердечную губя, Казалося еще сильней горю любя. Погибель я свою как будто предвещала, Сильняе всех времен в сию я нощь стенала, Любовь, отчаянье, объяли мысль мою. Жестокой ! От тебя я скорби не таю, Я кинула еще мои по всюду взоры, Увидела восход багряныя Авроры. Зеиде страждущей не видно в том отрад, На прелести она кидает смутный взгляд; И неспособная печали свободиться, Не ведала куда в тоске моей сокрыться, Задумчивость меня влекла по всем местам, Пошла я наконец к нещастным берегам. Брега! Где токи вод любезнаго умчали! Свидетели моей любовныя печали, Източником из вас течет напасть моя Мучитель! Твой корабль в дали узрела я. Он плыл в сию страну и парус развевался, Мой дух, скорбящий дух, мгновенно взволновался, В движенье чувства все и трепет мя объял, Мой глас по всем местам Леандра воскликал. Леандр плывет ко мне, с восторгом я кричала, Морям и небесам ту радость сообщала. В забвенье бегала по желтому песку, И душу ободря гнала я прочь тоску. А буря в те часы кротчайшею казалась И тихая вода ни чем не колебалась. Я зря, что все к пути способствует тебе,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 161 ’Tis helpful to turn to you in times of grief. But you summon only calm hearts. You too abandon forever Those hounded by fate amidst their woes. Zeida enjoyed not a moment of dreams And bathed herself in tears. Already night’s pleasant beauties were vanishing, But tearful eyes had not yet closed. Ruining my deep joy, It seemed I burned with love all the more strongly. ’Twas as if I foretold my own demise. I moaned that night more than ever. Love and despair seized my thoughts. Cruel man! I do not hide my grief from you. Again I gazed all around And saw scarlet Aurora84 rising. Suffering, Zeida found no joy in this. She cast a troubled gaze upon beauty. And, incapable of freeing myself from sorrow, I knew not where to hide in my anguish. Reverie drew me far and wide. At last I set off for those unfortunate shores. Those shores! Where the watery currents had stolen my beloved! Witnesses to my loving sorrow! My misfortune flows from you like a stream. Tormentor! I caught sight of your ship in the distance. It was headed in this direction, and the sail was fluttering. For a moment, my suffering spirit was troubled. My feelings stirred, and I was seized by trepidation. My voice called everywhere for Leander. “Leander sails toward me,” I cried, enraptured. I announced my joy to the sea and to the heavens. Delirious, I ran along the yellow sands And, relieving my soul, chased away anguish. In those hours the winds seemed quite mild And nothing disturbed the calm water. Seeing that everything aided you in your journey,

162 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Со восхищением рекла сама в себе: Любовну жалобу на свете все внимает, Она смиряет Понт, и бури укрощает, Стихии, небеса, смяхчаются для ней Зеида! веселись ты участью своей. Твой стон и жалоба повсюду раздавались, И воздух и моря стенанием смяхчались, Леандру быть с тобой удобствуют они, И блиски от тебя, твои приятны дни: Я мнила так; увы! Но злое размышленье, О мнимая мечта! Пустое воображение! Тоголи от любви, тоголи я ждала, Не верный! Пасть к тебе готова я была, К обьятиям мои отверсты были руки; Но совершилися, не радости, а муки; Корабль пристал к брегам; я зрела из него, Сошедшаго комне лишь брата твоего, Ищу тебя везде … Взирать мне запретили, Я кинулась в корабль … Мой путь остановили. Я к брату твоему рекла; гонитель мой! “Что здeлалось увы! Aх жив ли брaт уж твой? “Он жив, Зеида жив, мне брат твой отвечает, “Прибыть в сию страну любовь ему мешает. “С Визорою Леандр все чувства согласил, “Она ему мила, равно и он ей мил, “И души и сердца друг другу посвятили, “Взаимную любовь той клятвой утвердили, “Чтоб им пред олтарем желанья увенчать, “И брачным бы себя союзом обязать. Внимая речь сию, что чувствовать мне должно  Тиран! Тебе сего представить не возможно.  Не постоянному не льзя того познать, Как сердце верное умело пострадать. Мне сила новая во мысли вкоренилась  Со злобою любовь во чувствиях сразилась.  Мне злоба говорит, отмсти злодею ты!  Любовь свою предай лишь действию мечты, 

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 163 I said to myself, delighted, “Everything in this world hears a lover’s lament: It subdues the Pontus85 and tames the storms. For it, the elements and heavens relent. Zeida! Be happy with your lot! Your moans and laments have traveled far and wide And calmed the wind and seas. They help Leander return to you. Your pleasant days are close at hand.” ’Twas thus I imagined—Alas! What an evil rumination! O, fleeting reverie! Empty imagining! Is this what I expected from love? Unfaithful man! I was ready to fall at your feet. My arms were open for embraces. ’Twas not joys, but torments that came to pass. The ship docked at the shore. I saw that only your brother disembarked. I searched for you everywhere … They forbade me to search. I threw myself at the ship … They stopped me in my path. I spoke to your brother, “My persecutor! What has happened? Alas! Is your brother still alive?” “He is alive, Zeida, alive,”—your brother answered me,— “Love prevents him from coming to this land. Leander has inclined all his feelings toward Vizora. She is dear to him and he just as dear to her. They have dedicated their hearts and souls to each other And confirmed their mutual love with a vow, That they might crown their desires before the altar And bind themselves in matrimony.” Tyrant! You cannot imagine What I felt upon hearing that speech. A fickle man cannot understand How a faithful heart suffers. A new strength took root in my thoughts. Amidst my feelings, love clashed with malice. Malice told me, “Avenge the evildoer! Relegate your love to daydreams.

164 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova А чтобы наградить свой плачь и воздыханье,  Проси теперь богов, проси о воздаянье; А твердая лювовь, закон свой сохраня  Не допускает мстить жестокостью меня,  И нежности своеи ни чем не нарушая,  Велит мне мучиться, тебе неотмщевая;  Но ты умолкни днесь любови нежной глас! Ко злобе я стремлюсь, злодей! сей самый час,  Наказан будешь ты свирепою судьбою,  Не будут радости присутствовать с тобою;  Нещастие к тебе уже готово течь, Спешит оно твое спокойствие пресечь,  Ты был не справедлив, но Боги справедливы!  Зловредныя сердца не могут быть щастливы.  Ты больше, чем изверг злодействием своим  И меньшеб злобен был убийцей став моим.  Не жизнь, но жизни всю утеху отнимаешь  Печалью, не мечем Зеиду убиваешь.  Страшись, тиран, страшись свирепости своей,  Что может быть равно с неверностью твоей.  Хотя в любви сердца не редко изменяют,  Но видя слабыя надежды, оставляют,  Внезапным случаем когда у брега вод,  Покинул верную любовницу Ренод,  Оставленная им Армида унывала,  Но мысль смущенную надеждою питала,  Что слава от нея Ренода лишь влечет,  Что лаврами покрыт, обратно к ней придет,  И нежную любовь прощаньем убеждая,  Ей сердце посвятит во век не изменяя. Колико щастлива Армида предо мной!  Не слава от меня влечет тебя судьбой,  Не верный! Ты одной покорствуя измене,  Отсутствен будучи подвластен стал премене.  Но что я зделала! … Ах что вещаю я! … Досада; мщение, и жалоба моя,  Покажут моему изменнику то ясно, 

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 165 Now beseech the gods to reward your laments and sighs: Ask for retribution.” But steadfast love, maintaining its laws, Would not allow me to take cruel vengeance And, refusing to violate tenderness, Commands that I suffer and not take my revenge. But you, tender voice of love, henceforth fall silent! Wicked man, I yearn for malice! This very hour You will be punished by a cruel fate. Joys will not attend you. Misfortune already approaches you. It hastens to cut short your peace of mind. You were unjust; but the Gods are just! Pernicious hearts cannot be happy. You are worse than a monster in your perfidy And would be less malicious if you had murdered me. You remove not life itself, but all life’s pleasure. You kill Zeida not with a sword, but with sorrow. Tyrant, know fear! Fear your own cruelties Which perhaps equal your infidelity. Hearts in love frequently betray, But seeing frail hope, forgive; Like that brief encounter near the water’s banks: Rinaldo forsook his faithful lover.86 Abandoned by him, Armida was despondent, But hope nourished her confused thought That ’twas only glory drew Rinaldo from her; That he would return to her covered in laurels And, beseeching tender love to forgive him, Would dedicate his heart to her and never again betray her. How happy Armida appeared to me! ’Tis not glory that forced fate to take you from me. Unfaithful man! In my absence you betrayed me And submitted only to infidelity. And what did I do? …Ah! What do I proclaim? Distress, vengeance, and my lament Will clearly show my betrayer

166 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Что сердце я еще к нему имею страстно. Кто может бодрствовать и пламень потушать, Тому не нужно стон и жалобу вещать,  Моим роптанием Леандру открываю,  Что я любовну речь из сердца вырываю.  О слабость чувств моих! раскаянье мое! Из рук повергнет он писание сие.  Гнушаться верностью злодей начнет моею,  Иль властвовать собой уже я не умею? Зеида! рвение сердечно удержи,  Взаимную ему холодность покажи.  Пускай дела его забвенью предадутся,  И в памяти моей пускай не остаются.  Великодушием презренье докажу.  Но для чего себя я строго так сужу? Мне бодрствовать в любви ни мало не полезно, Порочноль то любить, что было раз любезно? О сердце нежное быть верным не стыдись! Смущайся, унывай, досадуй, мучься, рвись,  Похвальнее сто раз не вернаго любити,  Чем стать изменником и верной изменити.  Нам истинна и честь внушают сей закон,  И добродетели всегда послушен он.  Не редко та в любви бывает наш свидетель.  О ты! отчаянья Зеидина содетель;  Леандр, перед тобой я мысли не таю,  Смотри с презрением на слабость ты мою,  Сморти, что в сердце я еще любовь имею,  И не любить тебя по днесь я не умею.  Хотя к измене ты и подал мне пример,  Не подражаю в том, люблю тебя сверх мер: Когда мой жар в крови тобою зараждался,  Он тем умножен был; он с тем и утверждался,  Чтоб мне его по смерть со нежностью хранить;  Что мило зделалось в веки то любить.  Исклонности своей ни чем не истербляя Не колебать ее к другому обращая. 

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 167 That my heart still feels passion for him. Those who can remain vigilant and extinguish the flame Have no need to proclaim their moans and laments. My grumbling reveals to Leander That I wrench loving words from my heart. O weak feelings! O remorse! He will knock this letter from my hands. That villain will start to despise my fidelity. Am I no longer able to control myself? Zeida! Restrain your heart’s jealousy. Show him coldness in return for his own. Let his deeds fall into oblivion And let them not remain in my memory. I will steadfastly demonstrate my disdain. But why do I judge myself so severely? Being vigilant in love is of no use to me whatsoever. Is it a vice to love what once was loved? O tender heart, be not ashamed of loyalty! Despair, suffer, lament, be angry, and feel enraged! ’Tis a hundred times better to love an unfaithful man Than to become a betrayer and betray a faithful woman. Truth and honor instill this law in us And it always obeys virtue; It often stands witness to our love. O you! Maker of Zeida’s despair! Leander, I do not hide my feelings from you. Look with disdain upon my weakness. See that I still have love in my heart And am yet unable to stop loving you. Although you set me an example of betrayal, I will not imitate you; I love you beyond measure. When you lit the fire in my blood, It was stoked and strengthened by the knowledge That I would keep it tenderly unto death And that it would be sweet to love forever. I will not destroy my affection in any way, Nor let it waver by turning to someone else.

168 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Сердечной тот закон со строгостью брегу Два раза в жизни я любити не могу,  Равно и не могу оков освободиться,  Которым раз дала я волю утвердиться;  Хотя любовию и жизнь мою гублю,  Не вернаго тебя; я с верностью люблю,  Отраду в горести едину ту имею,  Что больше нежель ты, любити я умею. Дарий к Федим凇5 Федима! Слабости мне в сердце не вмещай, И мне отечества спасать не запрещай. От должности меня ничто не отвращает; Рука моя страну Персидску защищает. Тот будет плавать здесь в крови передо мной, Который возмутил в отечестве покой. Ты мщение мое желаешь обуздати, Меня любовию стремишься убеждати, Чтоб я злодейскую щадил пролити кровь. Федима! Жертвы сей не требует любовь. Не стыдно нежностям сердечным покоряться; Но слава страстию должна ли помрачаться? Сих правил пагубных в любви конечно нет, Она безвредные законы подает: Не может общество она ввергать в напасти; Она влечет людей к приятной самой части. Я действием любви покой установлю, Тебя, и Персию от ига искуплю: Она законы мне и должность подтверждает, Что Персия моей защиты ожидает. Злодей общаго изчисли ты дела: Когда судьба на трон Камбиза возвела, В нем сына Кирова страна сия познала, ‡‡ Содержание сей Ироиды почерпнуто из Российской трагедии называемой подложный Смердий, которая была представлена на придворном Российском театре в Санктпетербурге [author’s footnote].

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 169 I strictly guard the law of my heart. I cannot love twice in my life, Just as I cannot free myself from those bonds Which I once willingly assumed forever. Although I destroy my life with love, I love you, unfaithful man, I love you faithfully. I have but one joy in my grief— That I know how to love better than you do. Darius to Fedima§§6 Fedima!87 Do not encourage weakness in my heart Or forbid me from saving the fatherland. Nothing turns me from my duty. My hand defends the Persian land. He who disturbs the peace in my fatherland Will swim in blood before me. You wish to restrain my vengeance. You try to conquer me with love, That I might spare the enemy’s blood. Fedima! Love does not demand this sacrifice. ’Tis not shameful to submit to the heart’s tenderness, But must glory be obscured by passion? Love surely has no such pernicious rules. It gives inoffensive laws. It cannot cast society into misfortune. It brings people a most pleasant fate. With an act of love I will establish peace. I will free you and Persia from the yoke: Persia awaits my defense— She confirms my law and duty. Consider the deeds of our common enemy: When fate raised Cambyses to the throne, This country recognized in him the son of Cyrus §§ The content of this herois is taken from the Russian tragedy entitled The False Smerdis, which was staged at the Russian Court Theater in St. Petersburg [author’s footnote].

170 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И правда на него Порфиру возлагала. Камбиз Персидскою державою владел; Но к брату своему он злобою кипел; Он зрел, что Смердию все войско покорялось, И подозрение в нем сильно возгоралось; Все чувства он свои к отмщенью обратил, И день его страшил, и сон его смутил. Встревожанный Камбиз, среди глубокой ночи, Спокоить восхотел и дух и смутны очи, Во мрачной он мечте узрел Персидский трон, На оном Смердия сидяща видел он. Со трепетом Камбиз, со страхом пробудился; В нем ревность пущая, в нем пущий гнев родился. Стремился гибель он свою предупредить, Которую и сон стремился подтвердить. Опасность будущу, и царствованья трату Стремился отдалить, назначив гибель брату. Умолк пред ним тогда самой природы глас, Убийство повелел свершить он в страшный час. Вручил Прискаспу меч; дабы его рукою Кровь братню общему он жертвовал покою. Прискасп с оружием к убийсвию летит; И Смердий Киров сын, Прискаспом стал убит. К нам истина свой глас, Федима! возсылает, И Смердиево нам убийство возвещает: Ты слух к ея речам и мысли приклони, Священныя слова во память вкорени: Она дела Волхва и хитрость повествует, Волхва, что вымыслом зловредным торжествует: Он свой природный вид во зло употребил; Со Смердием лицем сей хищник сходен был: Ему подобныя черты лица имея, Явил отважнаго отчечеству злодея: Он Смердиеву смерть старался отвергать, И сыном Кировым, дерзнул себя назвать. Не редко Варвары награду получают,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 171 And Truth lay Porphyry upon him. Cambyses wielded the Persian scepter’s power,88 But seethed with malice toward his brother. He saw that all the troops submitted to Smerdis. And suspicion burned strongly within him. He turned toward revenge. Daylight frightened him, and sleep disturbed him. Alarmed, In the middle of the deep night, Cambyses wished to calm his spirit and troubled eyes. In a dark dream, he saw the Persian throne. He saw Smerdis sitting upon it. With a shudder, Cambyses woke in fright. Great jealousy and anger were born in him. He sought to prevent his own demise Which the dream also sought to confirm. By ordering his brother’s death he sought to postpone Future danger and the loss of his reign. The voice of nature itself fell silent before him then. In that terrible moment he ordered murder. He entrusted the sword to Prexaspes, That by his hand he might sacrifice his brother’s blood to the common peace. Prexaspes rushed to murder with his weapon And Smerdis, son of Cyrus, was killed by him. Fedima! Truth sends forth her voice to us And announces the murder of Smerdis. Incline your hearing and thoughts to her speech. Impress those sacred words upon your memory: Truth recounts the deeds and cunning of a sorcerer;89 A magus who triumphs by his pernicious falsehood. He used his natural appearance for evil: This thief ’s face resembled that of Smerdis. Having the same facial features, He was a dangerous enemy to the fatherland. He attempted to deny Smerdis’s death And dared call himself the son of Cyrus. Frequently barbarians gain rewards

172 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И злобныя дела успехами венчают. Победой скорою сей хищник возгремел, Подложным имянем, на Перский трон возшел: Возшел, и власть его народом подтвердилась; Камбизова душа, и паче возмутилась. Сей дерзновенный враг Камбизу гнусен был, Он казнь позорную ему определил; Но к вечности врата смерть алчна отворила, И дни Камбизовы внезапно прекратила: Он жизни не успел преступника пресечь, И смерть его рукой в него вонзила меч. Злодейска власть тогда сильняй распространялась, А Персия сильняй от славы удалялась: О ты отеческа любезная страна! Ты щастие вкушать была осуждена, Героями твоя крепилася держава, В пределы дальныя о них носилась слава; А ныне славы сей цветущий лавр поблек! Здесь Волхв, а не Герой, царем себя нарек; Но света твоего опять заря наступит, Гистапов сын тебя от бремени искупит. Федима! Жизнь мою на жертву я несу, И кровию моей Персидский трон спасу, Тот славен, кто свое отечество спасает; Не смерть меня, но жизнь поносна ужасает. Я храбростью успех желаемый найду, Героем сниду в гроб; иль в гроб Волхва сведу; Федима! Ежели и то тебя не тронет, Что Персия в стыде, и в бедставах ныне тонет, Так собственну свою почувствуй ты напасть; Представь ты, сколь была приятна наша часть! Мы нежностью сердца взаимною питали, Мы щастье без препон сердечное вкушали, И восхищалися приятною судьбой, Установлялся нам сладчайший век с тобой, Родитель твой, смяхча свои свирепства строги, Открыл ко щастью нам цветущия дороги,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 173 And evil deeds are crowned with success. This thief achieved renown with a quick victory. Under a false name he ascended the Persian throne. He ascended—and the people confirmed his power. Cambyses’s soul was even more disturbed. This insolent enemy was odious to Cambyses, Who arranged for him an ignominious execution. But covetous death opened the gates of eternity And suddenly ended Cambyses’s days: Cambyses was unable to cut short this criminal’s life And death plunged its sword into him instead. Then the enemy’s power spread even further And Persia retreated further still from glory. O you, my beloved fatherland! You were fated to enjoy good fortune. Your power was strengthened by heroes; Their glory was known in distant lands. But now the blossoming laurel of this glory has wilted! Here a Sorcerer, not a Hero, has declared himself king. But your glowing dawn will once again arrive And the son of Hystaspes90 will release you from this burden. Fedima! I bring my life in sacrifice And will save the Persian throne with my blood. He who saves his fatherland is glorious. I fear not death, but a shameful life. In bravery I will find my long-awaited success. I will either descend to the grave a hero or send the Magus to his grave. Fedima! If even that does not touch you— That Persia now drowns in shame and woe— Then feel your own misfortune. Think how pleasant was our lot! We nourished our hearts with shared tenderness. Unimpeded, we enjoyed true happiness And delighted in our pleasant fate. You and I were granted such sweet days: Softening his strict severity, your father Opened for us a promising path to happiness.

174 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Позволил брачного достигнуть нам венца; Готовилися мы спрягать свои сердца; Но ах! Среди утех, и щастья, и покою, Вдруг случай повелел растаться нам с тобою! Отверзлись мне пути ко Ниловым брегам, Лавровыя плелись венцы для Персов там; Любови нашея приятные законы Но делали тогда к отъезду мне препоны; Я путь мой направлял, Федима! Ты рвалась; Отчаянью, со мной прощаясь, предалась. Надежда в горестях тебя не подкрепляла; Твоим отчаяньем моя душа страдала. Я слабо в мужестве печаль одолевал, И первой в жизни раз ток слезный проливал. Огнем любовным огнь геройский потушался; Однако, должностью я в муках ободрялся. Мы будто в будущу с тобой проникли часть; Предчувствовали мы прощаяся напасть: Но с горестью тогда, оставя славны Сюзы, Я клятву дал тебе хранить любовны узы. Мне тот же был ответ; в любви тобою дан Священным клятвам сим свидетель был Отан, В Египте соверша намерения смелы, Я льстился, возвратясь в отечески пределы, С Федимою вступить в желанный мною брак, И былобы оно тогда Федима так; Но ах! Когда свершал я к Сюзам возвращенье, Ужасное меня встречало привиденье! Как виден стал уже в пути мне здешный град, С восторгом на него возвел я быстрый взгляд; Но взор смутился мой, и грудь вострепетала, Казалось мне, печаль у градских врат стояла; Она свой бледный вид слезами облила, Терзала грудь свою, власы свои рвала, По граду здешнему ея простерлась риза; Печаль вещала мне; “здесь больше нет Камбиза! “По градским улицам здесь терние растет,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 175 He let us attain the wedding crown.91 We prepared to join our hearts. But, ah! Amidst happiness, delights, and peace, Chance suddenly commanded that we part! The way to the banks of the Nile was opened for me; There they wove laurel wreathes for the Persians.92 The laws of our love were pleasant, But impeded my departure. Fedima, I set out on my journey! You rushed about in tears. You gave way to your despair, bidding me farwell. Hope did not fortify you in your grief. My soul suffered at your despair. Mustering courage, I scarcely overcame my sorrow And for the first time in my life, shed a stream of tears. The hero’s fire was extinguished by the fire of love. Yet amidst my torments, I took heart in my duty. ’Twas as though we had guessed our coming fate: Bidding farewell, we had a premonition of misfortune. But then, as I sorrowfully left glorious Susa,93 I gave my vow to preserve the bonds of love. In love, you replied the same. Otanes94 witnessed these sacred vows. When I had accomplished my bold purpose in Egypt, I flattered myself that upon return to the fatherland, Fedima and I would enter into the marriage, which I desired. And Fedima, it would have been so! But, ah! When I returned to Susa I was greeted by a terrible sight! Just when I spied the town along the road, I quickly lifted my eyes toward it, enraptured. But my eyes were troubled and my heart began to tremble. It seemed sorrow stood by the city gates: She bathed her pale face in tears, Tore at her breast, ripped her hair, And spread her mantle throughout the city. Sorrow announced to me: “Cambyses is no longer here! Thorns now grow along the city streets

176 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova “И слава больше стен Персидских не стрежет: “Она, вруча мне ключь от них себя сокрыла; “И мне Персидскую страну предпоручила; “Я силу излила мою на здешний трон, “Разсеяла пред ним уныние и стон “Здесь камни, и сердца, и стены сострадают; Но все они тебя, о Дарий! ожидают. Сей томный глас меня мгновенно поразил: Казалось, грудь мою стрелою он пронзил. Все чувствия мои виденьем всколебались, Хладела в жилах кровь, и мысли волновались. Ко градским я стенам с поспешностью летел, И в таинство сие проникнути хотел. Не тщетно ты печаль очам моим являлась! Федима! Злая часть вам здесь установлялась. Воспользовался волхв небытностью моей, И хитрость возимев сопутницей своей, Желаннаго конца в злодействах досязает, И Дария не зря, на все пути дерзает; Но чтобы пущую мне злобу приключить, Он к браку возхотел с тобою приступить; Свободу у тебя похитить не страшился. Под именем Царя, с тобой соединился. Тяхчил и трон его, и скиптр его тебя, Ты с ним спряглась, меня единаго любя: Он мнил, что Царь дает законы в нежной страсти, Что сами чувствия быть должны в Царской власти. В оковах склонность ты свою Федима зришь, Я ведаю, что ты ко мне любовь хранишь, И знаю то, что ты под бременем страдаешь, Но к снисхождению стеняща прибегаешь. Мы общую напасть сильняе утвердим, Когда терпению мы полну власть дадим; Великодушие приимет вид порока, Коль им умножится в народе часть жестока. Федима! Ты меня, и Персию любя, Должна подвигнути на брань сама себя.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 177 And glory no longer guards the Persian walls: She has handed me the key, gone into hiding, And entrusted me with the Persian land. I unleashed my power upon the throne; I scattered before it my groans and despair. Stones, walls, and hearts suffer. But, O Darius! They all await you.” This sad voice struck me at once. It seemed to pierce my breast like an arrow. My feelings stirred at this sight. My blood froze in my veins and my thoughts grew agitated. I flew in haste to the city walls And wished to comprehend this mystery. But Sorrow, in vain did you appear before my eyes! Fedima! A disastrous fate has settled here: The Magus has taken advantage of my absence And, with cunning as his companion, Achieved his desired end through evil deeds. Finding Darius gone, he stopped at nothing. He wished to enter into marriage with you, So that he might do me even greater harm. He was not afraid to steal your freedom. In the guise of a king he joined with you. His throne and scepter both weighed heavily upon you. You joined with him, though you loved only me. He believed a king could issue laws to tender passion; That feelings themselves should submit to royal power. Fedima, you see your own affection in fetters. I know that you preserve your love for me. And I also know that you suffer terribly. But groaning, you forbear. The more we are tolerant, The more we contribute to general misfortune. Mercy becomes a vice If it worsens the harsh lot of the people. Fedima! Since you love me and Persia, You must stir yourself to battle.

178 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Ты благоденствие народно соблюдая, И Дарием всегда не ложно обладая, Во Смердии должна Волхва изобличить, И варваром его, а не супругом чтить. Ты святость должности в душе своей вмещаешь, Со добродетелью геройство съединяешь; Сей храбостью свои ты мысли огради, И силу хищника отмщеньем победи. Разрушь ты брачные обманчивыя узы. Те должны лишь священны быть союзы, В которы склонность нас сердечна повлечет Иль благо общее в которыя ведет; А те, которыя обманом основались, Которы должности и чести удалялись, Не могут быть в сердцах у нас утверждены: Союзы таковы тебе судьбой даны: Ты истину любя, их можешь свободиться, И безпрепятственно венцем соединиться. О солнце! В небесах сильняе возгори, С престола своего на Персию возри! Она простерла взор отсель в твое теченье И жертвы пред тобой свершает приношенье, Да снидет на нее твоей защиты луч, И возсияя здесь, разгонишь мрачность туч, Которы дневный свет от наших глаз скрывают! Все Персы днесь тебя на помощь призывают, И тени пред тобой умерших вопиют; Их трупы во гробах врагу отмещенья ждут. Внемли ты Киров глас, Гистапово стенанье, О солнце! Ниспошли на Персию сиянье! Федима! Мести я моей не укращу; Куда смущенну мыcль, и взор не обращу, По всюду я следы мучительства встречаю, По всюду новые удары получаю. Когдаб мой враг меня единаго теснил, Яб, жертвуя тебе, вину ему простил. Но он отечество мое отягощает,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 179 Protecting the people’s well-being And always keeping faith with Darius— You must expose Smerdis as a magus And consider him not a spouse but a barbarian. You retain the sanctity of duty in your soul. You unite heroism with virtue. Shield your thoughts with bravery And defeat the thief ’s power with vengeance! Break your deceptive matrimonial bonds! Only those unions should be sacred To which we are drawn by the heart’s inclination Or to which we are led by the common good. But those which are founded on deception, Which spurn duty and honor, Cannot be confirmed in our hearts. Fate granted you such a union: Since you love truth, you may go free And join me under the wedding crown unimpeded. O sun! Burn brighter in the heavens! Look upon Persia from your throne! Hence she has stretched her gaze toward you And offers you sacrifice. May your protective rays descend upon her And shining here, chase away the dark clouds That conceal daylight from our eyes! Today all Persians call to you for help And mourn the shades of the dead before you. The bodies in their graves await vengeance against the enemy. Hear the voice of Cyrus, the moaning of Hystaspes. O sun! Send down your radiance upon Persia! Fedima! I will not restrain my vengeance. Wheresoever I turn my anxious thoughts and gaze There I see signs of suffering. Everywhere I receive new blows. If my enemy were oppressing only me, I would forgive his crime and sacrifice my love for you. But he oppresses my fatherland

180 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И Дарий сей вины злодею не прощает. Сплелася цепию постыдная напасть, И хочет угнетать преславну нашу часть. Возможноль Дарию то видя не терзаться? Стыдись, Федима! ты ко жалости склоняться, Стыдись о варваре лить горьких слез поток. И помни, что не тот зловреден и жесток, Кто правдою порок другаго истребляет: Но тот, кто следствие порока подкрепляет. Ты правила сии во сердце впечетлей, Злодея обществу низвергнуть не жалей; Тебя спокойствие и радость ожидает; А слава в свой покров принять тебя желает. Ты чувствия свои из плена искупи, Злодея истребя, со мною в брак вступи. К нам щастье прежнее, Федима! возвратится. Сердечная любовь, венцами наградится; Ты славу дел моих подщишься умножать, И будешь хвальныя советы мне внушать, Общенародную ты радость усугубишь, Подобно, так как я, отечество ты любишь, Оно в тебе меня, во мне тебя узрит, Престол, который днесь мучитель наш тяхчит, Тобой приобретет хвалу, и украшенье; А я приобрету со славой утешенье: Я славою стремлюсь победу приобресть. То сердце, в коем я храню геройску честь, Не может слабостью позорной колебаться, Коварствами оно не может не гнушаться; Престанет в нем сама Федима обитать, Коль истину она престанет почитать. Обманчивая честь царю не оборона, Ей зыблются всегда столбы Монарша трона. Монархи подданым примеры подают, Собой ко славе их, и к слабостям ведут. Тот Скиптра и сердец бывает лишь владетель, Примером в подданых кто сеет добродетель.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 181 And Darius will not forgive the enemy that crime. Shameful misfortune has bound us as with chains And wants to thwart our most glorious destiny. Seeing this, can Darius fail to suffer? Be ashamed, Fedima, that you are moved to pity! Be ashamed of shedding a bitter stream of tears for the barbarian! And remember that ’tis not those who destroy another’s vice with truth Who are pernicious and cruel, But rather those who reinforce the consequences of vice. Impress these rules upon your heart! Do not regret overthrowing this enemy of society! Peace and joy await you And glory wishes to take you under her protection. Deliver your feelings from captivity! Destroy the enemy and marry me! Fedima! Our former happiness will return to us. Our true love will be rewarded at the altar. Work to increase the glory of my deeds And you will inspire in me an admirable prudence. You will increase the joy of the common people. You love the fatherland as I do: It will see you in me and me in you. Thanks to you, the throne now oppressed by our tormentor Will be adorned with praise; And I will achieve both solace and glory. I yearn to attain a glorious victory. My heart, which retains heroic honor, Cannot be swayed by shameful weakness. It cannot but disdain treachery. Fedima herself will no longer reside there If she ceases to honor truth. Deceptive honor does not protect a king; It always weakens the foundation of the monarchal throne. Monarchs give examples to their subjects, Who follow them in glory or in weakness. Only he who sows virtue among his subjects through example Can be master of scepter and heart alike.

182 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Персидская страна примет прежний вид, Ее со всех сторон блаженство оградит, Народны радости в сердцах восторжествуют, Печальны города опять возликовствуют. Героев сей страны воскреснет прежня честь. Бессмертныя венцы нам станет слава плесть. Не к собственной своей я славе устремляюсь, Общенародною отрадой восхищаюсь, Извлечь из бездны сей отечество хочу; Оружие беру, и с ним на брань лечу. Меня вся Персия ко брани возбуждает, Она меня к врагу бесстрашно провождает. Федима! В действо я мой меч употреблю, Одну тебя равно с отечеством люблю, Вам чести равныя обеим обещаю, Тебя любовию, его мечем спасаю. Федима к Дарию Какими ты меня ударами сражаешь! Против супруга ты меня вооружаешь, Противу брачнаго священнаго венца. Иль клятвою на то спрягаются сердца, Чтобы они закон, и долг позабывали, И узы твердыя в свирепстве разрывали? Гнушаюсь я всегда, бегу от правил сих. Познай законы ты души, и чувств моих: Я помню то, что я не вольно в брак вступила, Что принуждением я клятву утвердила, Что я чрез то покой, и радости гублю, И что поднесь тебя, о Дарий! я люблю; Но должность брачную я свято соблюдаю; Против супруга я востати не дерзаю, И мщенья на него никак не обращу; С твоею мыслью, мысль мою не соглашу, На что ты мне его обманы изчисляешь! На что каварство мне его напоминаешь!

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 183 The Persian land will resume its former aspect. It will be surrounded on all sides by happiness. Joy will triumph in people’s hearts. Grieving cities will rejoice once more. The former honor of our country’s heroes will rise again. Glory will weave eternal wreathes for us. ’Tis not my own glory I seek. I delight in the common joy of all the people. I wish to pull the fatherland from this abyss. I grab my weapon and rush to battle with it. All Persia excites me to battle; It fearlessly accompanies me to the enemy. Fedima, I will put my sword to use! Only you do I love as I love the fatherland. I promise you both equal honors. You I save by love; the fatherland by my sword. Fedima to Darius With what blows you crush me! You would arm me against my husband— Against the sacred wedding crown. Are hearts only joined together by vows So that they might forget law and duty And savagely tear asunder solid bonds? I reject such principles and ever flee them. Darius, know the laws of my feelings and my soul! I recall that I married unwillingly; That I gave my oath under duress; That in so doing I destroyed peace and joy; And that to this day, O Darius, I love you! But I sacredly observe my matrimonial duty. I dare not rise against my husband And will in no way take vengeance on him. I will not reconcile my thoughts to yours. Why must you recite to me his deceptions! Why must you remind me of his treachery!

184 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Завесу я хочу на очи возложить; Забвением его пороки окружить; Хоть Персы в Смердии Царя не почитают И в хитрых вымыслах его изобличают; Хотя отмщенье мечь ко трону устремит, И звук оружия повсюду возгремит, Вселенная хотя на брань вооружится И Смердия сразить, убийвством устремится: Но мне его на казнь возможноль осуждатъ? Мне долг велит его супругом почитать. 0 Дарий! иль твоя любовь ко мне простыла? И добродетели в тебе изчесла сила? Когда ты нежну страсть к Федиме ощущал, К незлобию меня ты строго поощрял. Я чувствия мои с твоими соглашала, Душа твоя всегда примеры мне давала, Священной истине ты храмы воздвигал, И добродетели светильник возжигал, Ты честности хранил и должности уставы, И человечества любил приятны нравы, А ныне ты меня от свойств моих влечешь, И мне оружие к убийству подаешь. От мыcлей сей одной рука моя трепещет, И небо кажется уже Перуны мещет. Ты сам в меня вперил незлобия закон. О Дарий! В грусти мне поднесь приятен он; Я им приобрела в несчастиях награду, Среди отчаянья он мне дает отраду, И в сердце томное свою прятность льет: Он совести моей спокойство подает. Когда печаль из глаз ток слезной извлекает; Невинность мне сама те слезы отирает. На что же у меня ту сладость похищать, И к вечной гибели мне способы вещать? Могу ли радости, о Дарий! я вкушати, Коль злобой стану я в любви торжествовати? Супруга моего убийцей коль явлюсь,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 185 I wish to lay a veil across my eyes; To consign his sins to oblivion. If the Persians no longer considered Smerdis their king And exposed his cunning fantasy; If vengeance aimed its sword at the throne And the sound of weapons resounded all around; If the universe armed itself for battle And moved to murder Smerdis, Could I condemn him to death? My duty bids me honor him as my husband. O Darius! Or has your love for me grown cold? And has the strength of your virtue vanished? When you felt tender passion for Fedima, You steadfastly encouraged me toward goodness. I accorded my thoughts with yours. Your soul always set the example for me. You erected temples to sacred truth And lit the lamp of virtue. You upheld the statutes of honor and duty And loved humanity’s pleasant manners. But now you pull me from my affinity95 And arm me for murder. My hand trembles at the very thought And already heaven throws its thunderbolts. You yourself instilled in me the law of forgiveness. O Darius! To this day I find it pleasing in my sadness. It rewarded me in my misfortunes. In my despair it gives me joy And pours relief into my suffering heart. It keeps my conscience at peace. If sorrow calls forth a stream of tears from my eyes, Then innocence itself wipes them for me. Why take from me that sweetness And demand my eternal ruin? O Darius! Can I taste joy If I rejoice in love through spite? If I become my husband’s murderer

186 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И средством сим когда с тобой соединюсь, Супружня тень тогда из недр земли востанет, И в страшном образе передо мной предстанет, Она покажет мне кровавые следы, И станет мне твердить: се варварство плоды: “Супруга поразить рука твоя дерзала, “Ты кровию его спокойство досязала. Сей глас, ужасный глас, весь дух мой возмутит Он радости мои и щастье умертвит. Я стану грудь свою раскаяньем терзати, И стану я мое блаженство проклинати. Взволнуется моя пылающая кровь: Противна наконец мне будет и любовь; И нежность, что во мне теперь к тебе хранится, Во злобу может быть тогда преобразится. О Дарий! Я страшусь, в сие мученье впасть. Конечно, тягостняй сносить нам ту напасть, Котору сами мы себе установляем, Неправду делая, где злобу мы являем, Чем ту, в которую невинность нас влечет, В которой варварство участья не берет. Последняя из них лишь сердце отравляет, А первая и честь, и совесть оскорбляет: О сердце! Ты во мне, терзайся, унывай; Но совесть завсегда в покое пребывай! Не мысли Дарий ты, что бы любви уставы Теряли через то свои в Федиме правы; Не жди ты от меня неверности себе, Я в горестях моих всегда верна тебе, К тебе единому вся мысль моя стремится, И жизнь мне без тебя противна становится. Я в свете лишь на то хотела пребывать, Чтоб мне тебя своим, себя твоею звать. Не трона пышнаго но сердца я искала, Не скипетром себя любовию ласкала. Какую бы мне рок степень ни осудил, На всякой бы ты мне равно казался мил:

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 187 And by so doing join with you, Then my husband’s shade will rise from the bowels of the earth And appear before me in frightening form. He will show me traces of blood And proclaim: “Here are the fruits of barbarism: Your hand dared strike your husband; You attained your serenity with his blood.” That terrifying voice will disturb my whole spirit. It will destroy my joy and happiness. I will tear at my breast in remorse And curse my own felicity. My burning blood will become agitated. In the end, love too will become loathsome to me And my tenderness for you Will perhaps turn into hatred. O Darius! I fear sinking into that torment. Of course, ’tis more burdensome for us to endure a misfortune That we ourselves have caused— In which we display spite, having committed falsehood— Than a misfortune to which we are drawn by innocence, In which barbarity plays no part. The latter only poisons the heart, Whereas the former insults both honor and conscience. O my heart, suffer and despair! But conscience, remain always at peace! Darius, do not think that the statutes of love Have for all this lost their rights over Fedima. Do not ask me to be unfaithful to myself. Amidst my misfortunes, I remain ever faithful to you; All my thoughts seek you alone And without you my life becomes loathsome. I only wished to remain on earth, That I might call myself yours and you mine. Not a lofty throne, but a heart I sought. ’Twas love, not the scepter, that consoled me. Fate could condemn me to any station— You would be just as dear to me:

188 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Мой жар бы силен был, как силен он и ныне; В венце, иль в рубище, на троне, иль в пустыне, Равно бы для меня была прятна часть; Но горькия плоды срывает наша страсть! Судьба, которая вселенной управляет И смертным участи различны учреждает, С предальной высоты проникла в чувства к нам, И нашим подала мучение сердцам. Не мы изменою друг друга оскорбили, Ея законы нам напасть определили. Когда сама судьба желала нас разить; Так можноль власть ея и силу победить? О вы! которые любови покорились, И безпрепятственно сердцами съединились, Какая в жизни вам дана приятна часть! Бежит от вас печаль, и скука, и напасть; А щастье вас во храм спокойства провождает. Там радость вам пути цветами устилает, И вам сопутница во всех делах она. Увы! Сия нам часть, о Дарий, не дана! Источник излился мучения пред нами, И поглощает нас, как быстрыми водами. Мы тонем в глубине, пристанища нам нет, В пучину страшную ток водный нас влечет: Но что бы отвратить сие нам грозно бедство, Ужасное к тому потребно ныне средство. Нет! Лутче жизнь хочу я в горести скончать, Чем щастия себе чрез варварство искать. О Дарий! Я к тебе вторично прибегаю, И ежели еще тобою обладаю, И пламень ежель твой доныне не погас, Так ты внемли теперь самой любови глас: Она мои слова из сердца вырывает, Федима с нежностью еще к тебе взывает! Повергни ты из рук своих суровый меч, Супруга моего не мысли дни пресечь И кровию его не обагряй ты руки!

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 189 My ardor would remain just as strong; I would find my lot just as pleasant Under a crown, in tattered rags, upon a throne, or in the wilderness. But our passion bears bitter fruit! Fortune, which rules the universe And establishes the varying fates of mortals, Penetrated our feelings from far distant heights And made our hearts suffer. ’Twas not we who offended each other with betrayal— Her laws determined our misfortune. If Fortune herself wished to crush us, Then could we defeat her power and strength? O you, who have submitted to love And united your hearts unimpeded! What a pleasant lot you have been given in life! From you sorrow, weariness, and misfortune flee And happiness accompanies you to the temple of serenity. Joy strews your path with flowers there And accompanies you everywhere. Alas! We have not been granted such a lot, O Darius! The well-spring of suffering flows before us And swallows us in its rapid waters. We drown in the depths; we have no refuge. The watery current draws us into the frightening deep. A terrible remedy is required To repel this dreadful misfortune. No! I would prefer to end my life in grief Than find my happiness in barbarity. O Darius! I turn to you yet again. And if you are still mine; If your flame has not yet been extinguished; Then harken now the voice of love itself Which tears the words from my heart. Fedima still beseeches you tenderly! Let the merciless sword fall from your hands! Do not think of cutting short my husband’s days And do not stain your hands with his blood!

190 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Изчисли ты мои предбудущия муки; Представь страдание, и рвение мое, Когда злодействие исполнится твое; Я стану твоего тиранства ужасаться, Всеместно от тебя я стану удаляться, И сердца моего с твоим не сопрягу, Я брачныя любви имети не могу, К тому, кто меч вонзит в Федимина супруга. О сколь вредна сия отечеству услуга! Иль Персию спасти другого средства нет? Но ежель трон тебя к сражению зовет, И естьли льстит тебя Монарша власть едина Кровопролития слаба сия причина. Я лутче бы престол хотела уступить, Чем каплю крови мне за пышной трон пролить. Цари, что скипетром владети осужденны, Нередко муками бывают окруженны; Когда нещастлиый пред троном слезы льет, Сей слезный ток тогда Монарше сердце рвет; А каждому не льзя блаженства предустроить, Так может ли престол монарха успокоить? Им тот же на земли сужден мятежный век, Какой проводит здесь и каждый человек. О трон! Коль горести тобой не изчезают, На что к тебе, на что? столь алчно досязают? На что перед тобой лиют ручьями кровь? О Дарий! предпочти ты скипетру любовь, И к мукам ты моим почувствуй уваженье! Смягчи свирепу мысль, смягчи свое отмщенье! Терпеньем, не мечем себя вооружай, Великодушию Федимы подражай! Я человечества всегда законы внемлю; А ты внемли, что я к отраде предприемлю: Я часть мою хочу судьбине покорить, И бедства не могу во злобу превратить. Среди мучения, тем буду восхищаться, Что я злодействию умела противляться,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 191 Imagine my future torments! Consider my suffering and hysterics If your evil act is fulfilled. I will start fearing your tyranny. Everywhere I will start distancing myself from you And will not unite my heart with yours. I cannot feel matrimonial love For one who would thrust a sword into Fedima’s husband. O how pernicious is that service to the fatherland! Or is there no other means to save Persia? But if the throne calls you to battle And if Monarchal power alone lures you, ’Tis a feeble reason for bloodshed. I would rather cede power Than shed a drop of blood for that magnificent throne. Kings fated to wield the scepter Are often surrounded by torments. When an unfortunate sheds tears before the throne, Then that stream of tears breaks the Monarch’s heart. Yet ’tis impossible to arrange happiness for all. Thus, can the monarch’s throne ever be assured? They are condemned to the same tumultuous time on earth Through which each of us must pass. O throne! Why does misfortune so greedily seek you out When you do not destroy it? Why do rivers of blood flow before you? O Darius! Prefer love to the scepter And respect my torments! Suppress your cruel intention; suppress your vengeance! Arm yourself not with the sword, but with forbearance. Imitate Fedima’s mercy! I always heed the laws of humanity. And you, Darius, harken what I undertake as consolation! I wish to submit my destiny to fate And cannot turn my misfortunes into malice. Amidst my torments I will be glad That I was able to resist wicked deeds;

192 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Что в жизни зверству я причастна не была, И от раскаянья слез токов не лила; Что мысль моя чиста, душа моя не злобна, Что дщерь Отанова, родителю подобна, Что горестью своей, и бедствием моим, Вреда не приключу конечно я другим, Что я к супругу долг, к тебе любовь хранила, И что невинностью все муки заменила! Вот что мою печаль о Дарий! усладит, Федима правила незлобивы хранит. Она тебе любовь сердечну подтверждает; И опыта твоей любови ожидает. Рогнеда к Владимиру От стен Новограда тобою отлученна, Венца и вольности жена твоя лишенна, В гонении, в слезах, сраженная тоской Вещаю жалобу, Владимир, пред тобой. Я сына во свои объятия приемлю, Его стенании повсеминутно внемлю: Не для неволи он, для скипетра рожден: А днесь тобой страдать, как пленник, осужден. О ты злодействия и бед моих содетель! Тобою страждет честь, невинность, добродетель. Познай, напрасный гнев к чему тебя влечет; Да жалобу мою внимает целый свет! Отчаянье слова из сердца извлекает; Тебя свирепствами супруга упрекает. Напомни следствии твоих ужасных дел. Полоцкою страной родитель мой владел: Там Княжество его во славе процветало, Спокойство вечное во граде обитало; Но ты и тишину, и славу возмутил, Притворным дружеством дни мирны прекратил, Желая, чтобы твой предел распростирался, Свирепый лев! тогда ты агнцом притворялся.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 193 That in life I was not party to brutality And did not shed a stream of tears in remorse; That my thoughts were pure and my soul not spiteful; That the daughter of Otanes was like her father; That my sorrow and misfortune Caused no harm to others; That I kept my duty to my husband and my love for you And valued innocence above all torments! O Darius, here is what sweetens my sorrow: Fedima upholds the principles of forgiveness. She confirms her true love for you And awaits the test of your love. Rogneda to Vladimir96 Banished by you from Novgorod’s97 walls, Your wife was deprived of both her crown and her freedom. Persecuted and in tears, she was struck down by grief. Vladimir, I lament before you. I will receive my son in my arms. Ever will I hear his moaning. He was born not for captivity but for the scepter, But you now condemn him to suffer in prison. O you, author of evil deeds and of my misfortunes! You oppress honor, innocence, and virtue. Know where futile anger leads you! Let the whole world heed my lament! Despair rips the words from my heart. Your wife reproaches you for your cruelty. Recall the consequences of your terrible deeds: My father ruled the Polotsk land, Where his principality flourished gloriously.98 Eternal peace resided in the city. But you disturbed both glory and tranquility. Wishing to expand your borders, You ended our peaceful days with false friendship. Fierce lion! You pretended then to be a lamb.

194 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Меня любовию старался убедить; Не сердце ты хотел, но царство победить! Я ласки таковой, сколь можно, удалялась, И к лучшей участи желаньем устремлялась. Ко браку приступить намерена была, Я брата твоего супругом избрала; И льстилась, не узнав нещастной перемены, Со Князем сим вступить во Киевския стены. Отверсты чаяла уже во град врата; Но вся была тобой надежда отнята. Против упорности моей ты ополчился, Пылая мщением на брань вооружился. Оставя Новгород в пределы к нам влетел, И стал гонителем; а другом быть хотел. Повсюду видели мы стены разрушенны, Кровавые ручьи, поля опустошенны; Но ах! какой мечтой сразилась мысль моя? Родитель мой! тебя безгласна вижу я; Здесь братья предо мной в крови бездушны тонут: Граждане во плену кругом Рогнеды стонут. Насытя зверский дух мучением таким, Ты кровью обагрен предстал очам моим. Гнушаяся тобой, я взор свой отвратила. Увы! коль слабо я за все злодейство мстила! В последок совершить жестокостей конец, Ты брачной на меня взложить хотел венец. Неволею к тому в неволе согласилась, И следуя тебе с тобою соединилась: Однако к олтарю с тобою приступив, И сердце наконец супругу посвятив, Почувствовала я, что могут брачны узы Со временем раждать любовные союзы. Я варварства твои забвенью предала. И льстилась бедная, что я тебе мила. Ах! тем я пред тобой виновна, мой родитель! Что мне любезен стал твой гордый победитель,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 195 You attempted to conquer me with love; ’Twas not a heart you hoped to conquer but a kingdom! I did my best to avoid your caresses And wished with all my heart for a better fate. I meant to enter into marriage: I chose your brother as my husband. Unaware of that sad betrayal, I fooled myself That I would pass through the walls of Kiev with that prince.99 I thought the city gates already stood open. But you destroyed all hope. You took up arms against my stubbornness; Burning with vengeance, you armed yourself for battle. Abandoning Novgorod, you rushed to us at the border. You became our oppressor, though you had wished to be a friend. Everywhere we saw walls destroyed, Ravaged fields, and rivers running with blood. But, ah! With what images do my thoughts battle? My father! I see you silenced. Here my lifeless brothers drown in blood before me. Captive citizens moan all around Rogneda. Your brutal spirit content with such torment, You appeared before my eyes, stained with blood. Repelled, I averted my gaze. Alas! How feebly have I avenged all these evil deeds! Then to conclude your cruelties, You wished to lay the wedding crown100 upon me. In forced captivity I agreed to it by force And, following you, I joined with you. But when we arrived at the altar And I finally dedicated my heart to my husband, I felt that our matrimonial bonds might In time give birth to a union of love. I committed to oblivion your barbarity. And, poor woman! I fooled myself that I was dear to you. Ah, my father! I am guilty before you! That your proud vanquisher became my beloved;

196 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Кем братиев моих с твоей лилася кровь. Вся злоба отошла, осталася любовь; Убийцу позабыв в тебе имела друга, Любовника, Царя, и вернаго супруга. Но чем меня за то, неверный, наградил? Опять убив отца ты царство победил. Лишь душу я тебе и мысли посвятила; Твоя душа мне злом за нежность отплатила. Ты лютых склонностей не мыслил обуздать, И сердцу пылкому стремился волю дать. Забыв ко мне любовь нарушил чести права, Ты презрил долг, любовь, Рогнеду, Изяслава. Ты верность прежною в измену превратил, И мысль свою к другой любови обратил. Моих совместниц мне открылися победы, Похитили опять спокойствие Рогнеды. Ты страстью к ним горев, питал к супруге яд; К ним нежный обращал, ко мне суровый взгляд; Став пленником зараз, страстями восхищался, Твой взор от моего всеместно отвращался. Ты слух свой затворял, когда рыдала я; Досаду делала тебе любовь моя. Внушала ревность мне во грудь ожесточенье, И пуще прежних мук узнала я мученье. Свирепство ты свое реками изливал, Презрения ко мне нимало не скрывал. Взглянути на тебя смущенная не смела, И то к мучению на сердце не имела, Когда убийцу я в тебе могла любить, Надеялась сама тобой любима быть; То как не чувствуя и жалости к нещастной Ты мог убить меня неверностью ужасной. Влекома ревностью, любовию, тоской, В отчаянье моем поверглась пред тобой, И жалобой тебя, и прозьбой убеждала, Но сердце твоего ничем не побеждала. Ты очи от меня злодейски отвратил,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 197 He who shed your blood and that of my brothers. All malice receded; only love remained. I forgot the murderer in you and found a friend, A lover, a tsar, and a faithful husband. And unfaithful man! How did you reward me? You again killed a father and conquered a kingdom. As soon as I dedicated my thoughts and soul to you, Your soul repaid my tenderness with misfortune. You gave no thought to curbing your cruel desires And wished only to free your burning heart. Forgetting your love for me, you violated the principles of honor. You disdained duty, love, Rogneda, and Iziaslav. You turned your former faithfulness into betrayal And turned your thoughts toward a new love. My rivals’ victories were made known to me. Again Rogneda’s peace of mind was destroyed. Burning passionately for them, you nourished hatred for your wife. You looked tenderly at them; harshly at me. Captive to their beauty, you were enthralled by passion. Always you averted your gaze from mine. You stopped your ears when I sobbed. My love vexed you. Jealousy aroused bitterness in my heart And I suffered even more terribly than before. You unleashed your cruelty like a river And made no attempt to hide your disdain for me. Dismayed, I dared not glance at you. When I loved you as you were—a murderer— And hoped myself to be loved by you, I did not expect that I would suffer. But since you felt no pity toward me, unfortunate woman that I am, You were able to kill me with your terrible infidelity. Called by jealousy, love, and anguish, I threw myself before you in despair And prevailed on you with cries and entreaties, But nothing could vanquish your heart. You averted your wicked eyes from me

198 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И тем мою любовь в свирепство превратил. Отчаянна, грустна, гонима, раздраженна, Каким отмщением я стала возбужденна? Гоняща от себя любовь мою и честь, Прибегла к злобе я и устремилась в месть. К отраде мне одно представилося средство, Чтоб смертию твоей мое окончить бедство. Твою пронзити грудь не ужасалась я, Способствовал мне гнев и ревность в том моя; Успехи обрела: тебя нашла лежаща, Спокойно во одре со сладостию спяща. Рогнеда в трепете приближилась к тебе, Представила твои неверности себе. И ревность, и любовь, отважность мне вливала, Свирепства мне моя прискорбность придавала, Она вручила мне для мщенья острый меч, Которым жизнь твою летела я пресечь. Взнесла его, увы! . . Рука затрепетала, Природа за тебя против меня востала, Раскаяние мне мгновенно вкореня, Из рук похитила меч острый у меня. Поколебалась я; удар не совершился; Ты сна приятнаго во время то лишился. Мое рыдание, и гнев услышал мой, Увидел бледное лице перед тобой. Увидел мщения в лице изображенье, Раскаянье, тоску, и трепет, и смущенье, И рвение, и стыд, и торопливый взгляд; Познал, что в сердце я скрываю некий яд. Глаза перед тобой меня изобличали, Они тебе на все вопросы отвечали. Вещало всё тебе, хотя молчала я: Отмщается моей рукой вина твоя. Когда бы чувствам я моим повиновалась, В них злоба никогдаб с любовью не встречалась. Не волновалась бы пылая гневом, кровь, И царство в них свое имела бы любовь.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 199 And in so doing turned my love to fury. Desperate, sad, persecuted, enraged; By what vengeance was I incited? Driving away my love and honor, I turned to spite and yearned for revenge. I saw but one means to happiness: To end my misfortune with your death. Aided by anger and jealousy, I was not afraid to pierce your breast. I met with success: I found you lying Peacefully in your bed, sleeping sweetly. Rogneda approached you, trembling. She imagined your infidelities. Both jealousy and love instilled courage in me; My sorrow imparted rage. With an eye to vengeance, it handed me a sharp sword With which I rushed to cut short your life. I raised it up, alas! … My hand began to tremble. Nature rose against me in your defense, Instantly filling me with remorse. She stole the sharp sword from my hands. I wavered; the blow did not fall. At that moment you were robbed of pleasant dreams. You heard my sobbing and anger. You saw a pale face before you. You saw the expression of vengeance on my face— My remorse, anguish, trembling, confusion, Jealousy, shame, and my hurried look. You knew that my heart concealed some kind of poison. As I stood before you, my eyes unmasked me; They answered all your questions. Though I was silent, you understood it all: Your crime was being avenged by my hand. If I had submitted to my emotions, Spite would never have clashed with love. My blood would not be agitated, burning with rage, And love would have reigned.

200 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Не исчезали бы во мне ея уставы, И верность брачная своиб хранила правы. Но все свирепости мне в сердце ты вселил; Тиранству ты меня Владимир научил. Не ожидающа любовныя премены, Стерпелаб муки все, опричь твоей измены. Сносила все легко, измены не снесла, И смерть неверному в руках моих была. Ты, видя пред собой супругу раздраженну, Мечем против тебя, мечем вооруженну, И рвение свое, и ярость удержал, Подняв оружие меня не поражал: Но казни вымышлять мне пущия стремился, И смерть позорную готовить не стыдился. Грозящий смертью мне оставил острый меч, В одежду брачную велел меня облечь. Покрытая венцем, в порфиру облеченна, И к трону твоему во славе провожденна, Предстала в княжеский Владимиров чертог, Тогда уж ярости ты больше скрыть не мог. Подняв свой меч, хотел мои окончить муки; Но Изяслав в тот час в твои простерся руки. Он кинулся, и меч из рук твоих извлек, Рыдая пред тобой, слова сии изрек; “Родитель мой! коль так велит уже судьбина, “Прости супругу ты, вели казнити сына. “С охотою иду на смерть за мать мою, “Мне данну ею кровь за ону я пролью. “Я делаю как сын, что можно сделать другу, “Вонзи в меня свой меч, спасай лишь ты супругу. Какое действие имела речь сия? Смягчилася душа Владимир и твоя. И ты почувствовал ко жалости влеченье; Ты кинул меч из рук; но, ввергнув нас в мученье, Меня и сына ты лишил своих очей. О ты, Губитель мой, тиран любви моей! Ты был бы больше тем ко мне великодушен

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 201 Its statutes would never have disappeared within me And I would have upheld the laws of matrimonial fidelity. But you instilled cruelty in my heart. Vladimir, you taught me tyranny. Not expecting such treachery in love, I would have endured any torment, save betrayal. I endured everything easily, but betrayal I could not endure, And my unfaithful husband’s death was in my hands. Seeing your enraged wife before you— She had raised a sword against you; she was armed with a sword— You restrained your anger and your fury. You raised your weapon but did not strike me. But you worked to devise an even worse punishment And were not ashamed to prepare an ignominious death for me. You put aside the sharp sword with which you might have killed me And commanded that I don my wedding garments. I appeared in Vladimir’s princely chambers. I was brought to your throne in glory, Wearing the wedding crown and clothed in porphyry. Then you could no longer hide your fury. Having raised your sword, you wished to end my torments. But Iziaslav at that moment stayed your hand. He rushed forward and disarmed you. Sobbing before you, he uttered these words: “My father! If fate so commands it, Order your son be executed, but forgive your wife. I happily go to my death in my mother’s place. ’Twas she who gave me blood; mine I will spill for her. As a son, how could I do otherwise. Plunge your sword into me; but save your wife.” What power had that speech? Vladimir, even your soul softened And you took pity on us. You threw the sword from your hands; but casting us into torments, You deprived your son and me of your presence. O, you! My ruiner, tyrant of my love! You would have been more generous toward me

202 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Когдаб движениям ты первым стал послушен, И смертию моей беды мои скончал. Ты, жизнь мне даровав, нещастье увенчал. Не чувствуя ко мне не малыя приязни, На место временной мне сделал вечны казни. Велел меня вести к печальной той стране, Где варварство твое всеместно зрится мне. Здесь тень родительску я зрю окровавленну, Стенящу вкруг меня, тобою пораженну. Здесь трупы братиев Рогнеды вопиют, Что мщения тебе они от неба ждут. Мечтаются тела повсюду мне лежащи, И смертию тебе за зло твое грозящи. Ты начал злобу здесь, и здесь ее свершил, Убийцем здесь ты был, и здесь меня сразил. Со Изяславом здесь терзается Рогнеда; Возрадуйся теперь, цветет твоя победа. Мы страждем, мучимся, стыдом своим горим; Кровь сродников своих, оковы пленных зрим. Я с сыном горькой плач в единый ток сливаю: Но ах! Еще к тебе Владимир я взываю. Единой от тебя я милости хощу, Исполни то, я все вины твои прощу: Представь перед собой стеняща Изяслава. На то он в свет рожден, чтобы гремяща слава По северной стране с плесканием текла, Природа бы его в порфиру облекла; Чтоб княжеским венцем глава его покрылась; Российская страна чтоб им увеселилась. Я льстилась, некогда сей князь взойдет на трон, А он в гонении теперь пускает стон, В убожестве, в тоске дни жизни провождает. Достоинств княжеских унынье не рождает. Обеих царска кровь пустила вас на свет, На троне ты; а он в плену теперь живет. Не столько узнику ужасны те боязни, Который ждет себе в оковах смертной казни:

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 203 Had you had been obedient to your first impulse And ended all my misfortunes with death. By granting me life, you crowned my unhappiness. Harboring not the slightest goodwill toward me, You replaced temporary punishments with eternal ones. You ordered me brought to that sad land Where I see your barbarity everywhere. Here I behold my father’s bloodied shade, Struck down by you and moaning beside me. Here the corpses of Rogneda’s brothers call out That they await the heavens’ vengeance on you. I imagine bodies lying all around me And threatening to kill you in return for your wicked deeds. Here you began your wickedness and here you have completed it. A murderer you were here; and here you struck me down. Rogneda suffers here with Iziaslav. Be happy now! Your victory flourishes. We suffer, are tormented, and burn with our own shame. We behold captives’ fetters and the blood of our kin. My son and I unite our bitter cries. But, O Vladimir! Ah, I still call for you. From you I desire only mercy. Provide it, and I will forgive all your crimes. Imagine Iziaslav moaning before you. He was born into this world so that waves of resounding glory Might flow across the northern land. Nature would have cloaked him in porphyry; She would have crowned him prince, That the Russian land might rejoice in him. I flattered myself at one time that this prince would ascend the throne. But now, persecuted, he emits a moan. He spends his days in poverty and anguish. Despondency does not give rise to princely virtues. You were both sent into this world with royal blood; But you sit upon the throne, while he lives in captivity. The fears of a fettered prisoner Who awaits penalty of death

204 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Как горько Росскому там Князю пребывать, Где трона своего не может достигать. Почувствуй же его Владимир ты мученье! Испольнь последнее Рогнедино прошенье, Колена приклонив, она к тебе гласит: Когда моя печаль дни жизни сократит, И сына больше я не буду зреть глазами, Не дай, чтоб он лился во младости слезами. Ты сердце к жалости Владимир приучи, От гроба матерня его ты отлучи; Да юность он свою с тобою разделяет, По мне свою тоску, сколь можно, утоляет. А ты во Князе сем, ты сына признавай, Рогнединой вины ему не отмщевай. Напомни, что она тебя не не любила, Забудь ты злобу всю, как я ее забыла, Отрада в том моей скорбящия души; Ты царския ему достоинства внуши. Тверди, чтоб в нем любовь к родителю хранилась, И честность с правдою от сердца не клонилась; Чтоб княжеска венца он тем достоин был, Что он, любя отца, врага в тебе забыл; Послушным став тебе, владеть людьми учился. Се тот совет, что мной ему всегда твердился Всечасно то ему, всечасно я твержу, И строго злобныя дела пред ним сужу. Когда Владимир ты сей прозьбою смягчишся, Родителем ему явить себя потщишся, Тогда я смутный дух спокойно испущу, Кончиной дней моих себя не возмущу. Без плача затворю померкшия зеницы, Без ужаса коснусь отверстыя гробницы; И вечность темная меня не устрашит, Она мои беды и муки совершит. А ваше щастие пускай да процветает. И слава вам венцы геройские сплетает, Ты сыну княжеской престол определи;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 205 Are not nearly as bitter as those felt by a Russian Prince Who must remain where he cannot attain his throne. Vladimir, feel his torment! Fulfill Rogneda’s final request. On bended knee, she speaks to you: When grief ends my days And I am no longer able to see my son, Do not allow him, in his youth, to shed tears. Vladimir, train your heart to pity. Banish him from his mother’s grave. Let him share his youth with you And relieve his sorrow for me as he may. And recognize your son in this prince! Do not take vengeance on him for Rogneda’s crime. Remember that she loved you. Forget all spite, as I have forgotten it; Therein lies the joy of my grieving soul. Instill in him the virtues of a tsar. Always teach him to maintain love for his father And to keep honesty and truth in his heart; To merit the princely crown in this way; To forget the enemy in you, loving you as his father. Having submitted to you, he should learn to rule. Such advice I always provide him: I constantly repeat it And judge wicked deeds severely in his presence. Vladimir, if you consent to this request And strive to be a father to him, Then I will release my troubled spirit peacefully. I will not trouble you at the end of my days. Without tears, I will close my darkening lids. Without terror, I will touch the open tomb. Eternal darkness will not frighten me; It will end my misfortunes and torments. And may your happiness flourish And may glory weave a hero’s wreath for you. You appointed my son to the princely throne;

206 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova В войне и в тишине с ним славу раздели. Украсит лаврами обеих вас победа, И снидет в гроб отсель с веселием Рогнеда. Промест ко другу О друг мой! От тебя я отлучен судьбою, Но дружеством везде присутствую с тобою. Оно мне свой закон во сердце вкореня, Отлучным от тебя не делает меня. Всеместно мыcль моя с тобою обитает, И сердце пред тобой все тайны открывает. Смотри, во что твой друг щастливым действом впал. Я чувство новое, я нову мысль познал, Котора дни мои утехой наслаждает, И новый щастья род мне в жизни обещает, Приятным пламенем моя пылает кровь. Мой друг! То чувство есть нежнейшая любовь. Не мысли, чтоб она в погибель мя ввергала, Не мни, чтоб оная и дружбу нарушала; На добродетели основан сей закон, И дружбе вреден быть ничем не может он. Твердятся ныне мне, мой друг, твои уставы, На чем основаны быть должны щастья нравы. Ты мысли мне всегда советом вкоренял, Чтоб непорочностью я щастия искал. Чрез честность позволял ты радости вкушати, И добродетелью спокойство достигати. Умел я то себе спокойство приобресть, От коего моя не сострадает честь; Ни совесть в чем моя меня не угрызает Ни истина души моей не укоряет. Два щастья в жизни нам, два щастья дано, Любовь и дружество в нас действуют равно, Одна утехи все собою оживляет, Другая щастие собою умножает. Колеблюся, когда я должен то решить,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 207 You shared your glory with him in war and in peace. Victory will adorn you both with laurels And hence Rogneda will descend happily unto the grave. Promest to a Friend O my friend! Fate has parted us, But friendship keeps you with me wherever I go. Instilling its laws in my heart, It makes me feel that we are still together. Everywhere my thoughts reside with you And to you my heart reveals all its secrets. See where serendipity has led your friend. I have come to know a new feeling, a new idea That delights my days with pleasure And promises me a new kind of happiness in life. My blood burns with a pleasant flame. My friend! This feeling is tender love. Do not think that it has thrown me to my ruin. Do not think that it has violated friendship. This law is founded on virtue And can in no way harm friendship. My friend, I am now reminded of your rules About the proper foundation of happiness. Your counsel always impressed upon me To seek happiness by being beyond reproach. You allowed for joy to be felt through honesty And serenity attained by virtue. I was able to attain a serenity That does not damage my honor. Nothing gnaws at my conscience, Nor does truth reproach my soul. Two types of happiness are granted us, two types of happiness in our lives: Love and friendship act equally within us. The one enlivens our merriment; The other increases our happiness. I waver when I must decide

208 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Которая должна которой уступить. И сколько чувства те собой ни измеряю, Чья сила победит, тово не понимаю. Сравненьем таковым мой друг не оскорбись, Не сетуй на меня, не рвися, не мутись: Сих чувств хотя во мне различно положенье, Но равное я к ним имею уважанье, И равну власть даю обеим над собой, Внимай, что мысль моя вещает пред тобой. Ты ведаешь, что я смеялся нежной страсти, Противился всегда ея пределам, власти, Любовны нежности за слабость почитал, В сердечной вольности спокойство обретал; Но нежная любовь меня изобличая, И мысли грубыя мои опровергая, Открыла действие своих приятных сил, И я почувствовал, что я обманут был. Любовь! прогневал я твои священны права, Постигнуть не хотел всеобщаго устава; Но я в раскаянье уже повержен стал, И твердо твой закон на сердце начертал. Я с ним во храм к тебе прибегнути дерзаю, И душу я тебе на жертву полагаю. Прости мою вину, и мне не отмщевай, С великодушием ту жертву принимай. Яви, что можешь ты досады забывати, Что свойственно тебе преступников прощати. С Флоризой обще нам устрой прятны дни, И безпрепятственно венцом соедини. Мой друг! се имя той, котора мной владеет, Соделать щастье мне которая умеет. С ней горесть мне сладка, без ней покой гублю. О часть! приятна часть! Флоризу я люблю. К ней сердце и душа и мысль моя стремится, Познай как рок судил мне страсти покориться. Сей град, который мне жилищем осужден, Свирепым роком был едва не поражен.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 209 Which happiness must cede to the other. And no matter how much I weigh my feelings, I do not know which force will prove victorious. My friend, do not take offense at such a comparison. Do not grumble, rage, or be distressed: Although the weight of these two feelings varies, I respect them equally And allow them equal power over me. Hear what my thoughts proclaim: You know that I used to mock tender passion. I always resisted the reach of its powers. I considered romantic tenderness a weakness. I found serenity in my heart’s freedom. But tender love, unmasking me, And refuting my rude thoughts, Revealed the force of its pleasant powers And I knew that I had been deceived. Love! I angered your sacred rights. I did not wish to comprehend your universal laws. But remorseful, I am now defeated. And have etched your law firmly in my heart. I dare proceed with it to your temple And offer you my soul in sacrifice. Forgive my transgression and do not take vengeance on me. Mercifully accept this sacrifice. Show that you can forget the insult; That you are moved to pardon criminals. Make pleasant days for me and Floriza And unite us without impediment beneath the wedding crown. My friend! ’Tis the name of she who possesses me; Who knows how to make my happiness. With her, bitterness is sweet; without her, my peace is ruined. O, my fate! My pleasant fate! I love Floriza. My heart, soul, and thoughts yearn for her. Learn how fate decreed that I should submit to passion! This city, which was destined to be my abode, Was almost destroyed by a cruel fate.

210 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova В единый день, лишь луч к нам солнечный явился, Внезапно свет во мрак, день в ночь, преобратился. Небесной тверди вся сокрылась красота, Простерлась облаков над нами густота. Ветр, воздух возмутя, во ярости бунтует, Он гонит тишину и токи вод волнует. Из тучи грозныя ударил сильно гром: Сверкнула молния: мы видели потóм, Что здание кругом во граде загоралось, И пламя с быстротой по всем местам кидалось. Стремлением его объят мгновенно град, Повсюду огнь и дым, куда не кинем взгляд, Огромны здания и храмы разрушались, Стихии будто бы между собой сражались, Огнь землю пожирал, вода на огнь лилась, Былинка каждая со пламенем неслась, Дымящися столпы под облаки стремились, А искры вверх летя опять на низ катились. Сквозь дым густой они явили страшный блеск, И раздавался там ужасный гром и треск. Из бездны пламенной текут, казалось реки; И поглощаются как травки человеки. Там дети ко своим родителям спешат, К младенцам матери для помощи летят. Супруги верныя мужей своих лишенны, Кидаются во огнь отчаяньем сраженны. Рыдает тамо брат, он брата потерял; Там стонет нежный друг, что друга огнь пожрал, Иныя рвут власы, унылость их снедает, Иной во бедность впал, и томный вопль пускает. Представь себе, мой друг! волнение сие, Я чаял сам терять все мужество мое, И жалость, и боязнь, и ужас дух объяли. Природу виды те к стенаниью побуждали. Я путь ко всем местам в смятенье устремлял, Другое зрелище в пути моем встречал: Близ пламя быстраго из дому исходящу,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 211 One day, as the sun’s rays had just appeared to us, Light suddenly turned to darkness and day to night. The beauty of heaven’s vault was hidden away. Thick clouds stretched above us. The wind, stirring the air, rose up in fury. It broke the stillness and disturbed the water’s currents. Powerful thunder struck from the storm clouds. Lightning flashed: Then we saw That a building in the city had begun burning on all sides And flames were spreading rapidly in every direction. The city was immediately in their clutches. Wherever we cast our gaze we saw fire and smoke. Enormous buildings and churches were being destroyed, As though the elements were fighting among themselves. Fire consumed the earth; water poured itself onto fire; Every blade of grass was carried away with the flames. Smoldering columns rose from beneath the clouds And sparks flew upward and again fell to earth. Through the thick smoke they displayed a terrifying brilliance And a terrible crash and crackling could be heard. It seemed rivers were flowing from the fiery abyss And people were being consumed like blades of grass. There children hastened to their parents. Mothers flew to help their infants. Faithful wives, having lost their husbands, Threw themselves into the fire, crushed by despair. There a brother cried; he had lost his brother; There a tender friend moaned that the fire had consumed his friend. Others tore their hair, eaten up by sorrow. Another was ruined and gave a cry of suffering. My friend, imagine this commotion! I myself thought I might lose heart. My soul was gripped by pity, fear, and terror. Nature groaned at these sights. Confused, I aimed my path in every direction. Along the way I met another sight: Near a rapidly spreading blaze, I saw a young maiden

212 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Младую деву зрел рыдающу, стенящу, Являла на своем лице она красы, Имея бледный вид, растрепанны власы, Безчувственна почти трепепуща бежала, Болящаго отца от пламени спасала, В объятиях своих сквозь дым его влекла, Главу его своей одеждой облекла. Родительскую жизнь желающа спасати, Не ведала где ей спасения искати. В отчаянье ко всем кидалася местам; Встречала слабое убежище очам. Узрела близ себя она лежащий камень, К нему не веял ветр и не касался пламень, С родителем она поверглася на нем; Я духом встрепетал в смятении моем, На помощь к ним лететь желаньем побуждался; Желанью следовал и к камню приближался. Во мне вскипела кровь, и жалость грудь рвала, Я взоры к ним возвел, Флориза то была. Подобным образом когда горела Троя, Взор каждый обратил на славнаго героя, Который нес отца на раменах своих, Всяк слезы проливал, кто зрел бегущих сих. Там был младый Еней, спасающий Анхиза; А здесь отца спасла, от гибели Флориза. В ком действие свое природа так явит, Тот сердце варварско на жалость обратит. Флориза во слезах родителя лобзала, Его потоки слез власами отирала. Потóм рекла ко мне, спасай ты нас, спасай! “Не мне, родителю ты помощь подавай, “И человечества законы сохраняя, “Смяхчись на жалкое позорище взирая. “Я жду со трепетом нещастию конца. “Смотри на моего ты страждуща отца. “Покрытый сединой, печальми удрученный, “Болезнями объят, и зрения лишенный,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 213 Exiting a house; she was sobbing and moaning. Her face was beautiful: With her pale look and disheveled hair, She ran, trembling and almost unconscious. She sought to save her ailing father from the flames. Through the smoke she drew him into her embrace And covered his head with her garments. Wishing to save her father’s life, She knew not where to seek salvation. In despair she rushed in every direction. Her eyes were met by a feeble shelter. She saw a stone close by. The wind did not blow upon it, nor did the flames touch it. Together with her father, she threw herself upon it. Uncertain what to do, my spirit was troubled. I was moved by a desire to rush to their aid; I obeyed that desire and approached the stone. My blood began to boil and pity tore at my breast. I lifted my gaze to them; it was Floriza. Just as when Troy burned and Each person turned his gaze to that glorious hero Who carried his father upon his shoulders; So anyone who saw these two fleeing would shed tears. There it was young Aeneas, saving Anchises; And here Floriza was saving her father from ruin.101 When nature’s power is thus displayed, Our savage hearts are inclined to pity. In tears, Floriza kissed her father. She wiped the streams of tears with her locks. Then she spoke to me, “Help us, help! Help not me, but my father. Upholding the laws of humanity, May your heart be softened by this pitiful sight. With trepidation I await the end of my misfortune. Look at my suffering father. Covered in gray, dispirited by sorrow, Seized by illness, and deprived of sight,

214 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova “Движение почти ужé теряет он, “Ослабшим голосом лишь произносит стон. “Прибежища нам нет, от нас спасенье скрылось, “Жилище наше в прах и в пепел превратилось. С каким терзанием я речь сию внимал, Слова мои пред ней слезами прерывал, Но к облехчению не знал что сделать должно, Ни где сокрыти их мне было не возможно. “Увы! сказал я ей, умею я страдать, “Умею скорби все я вами разделять. “Всем жертвую, чтоб вам спасение снискати, “Престань отчаяньем ты грудь мою терзати. “Ах! естьлиб рок мое жилище сохранил, “Убежищем его я вам бы посвятил. Флориза рвение свое усугубляет; А страдущий отец и паче возстеняет. Мой друг! я скорби сей не мог ужé сносить, Но я не начинал тогда еще любить. Мне жалость лишь одна во сердце вкоренялась, А хитрая любовь под жалостью скрывалась. Казалось, камень тот, который их спасал, Подвигнулся, и вопль нещастливых внимал. Флориза небеса стремительно смяхчила, И к жалостью Богов собою побудила, И пламя начало поспешно утихать, И ветры начали волненье укрощать: И солнца красота повсюду раздалася, Часть града здешняго от пламени спасалася. Спаслося от него жилище и мое. Прошенье обратил к Флоризе я свое. Упал к ногам ея, отрадой дух питая, И с восхищением ток слезный проливая. “Флориза, я сказал, Проместа успокой, “С родителем себе убежище устрой, “На то осуждены теперь мои чертоги, “Чтоб вам к спасению открылися дороги, “К ним путь направьте свой; спеши от здешних мест,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 215 He can hardly move. With a weakened voice he only emits a moan. We have no refuge; salvation has escaped us. Our home has turned to dust and ashes.” With what torment did I heed this speech. As I stood before them, tears interrupted my words. But I knew not how to help. I had nowhere to shelter them. “Alas,” I said to her, “I am capable of suffering. I am capable of sharing all your sorrow. I will sacrifice everything to gain your salvation. Stop tearing my heart with despair. Ah! If only fate had spared my abode I would have dedicated it to you as a refuge.” Floriza’s ravings grew more intense And her suffering father began to moan all the more. My friend! I could no longer endure this grief, But at that moment, I had not yet begun to love. Pity alone took root in my heart. But love, ever sly, lay hidden behind pity. It seemed the very stone that saved them Was touched, heeding the cry of these unfortunates. Floriza quickly mollified the heavens And roused the gods to pity. And quickly the flames began to subside And the winds began to die down And the sun’s beauty stretched all around. One section of the city escaped the flames. And my home also escaped. I implored Floriza. I fell at her feet, my spirit filled with joy, And enraptured, shedding a stream of tears, I said: “Floriza, reassure Promest. You and your father both take refuge! My manor is now destined To clear that path for your salvation. Direct your steps thither; hasten from this place.”

216 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Со торопливостью рекла она, Промест! “Великодушен тот, кто жалость ощущает, “И кто нещастливых ко щастью провожает. “Из бедства хочешь ты к спокойству нас вести, “Иду в твой дом, увы! родителя спасти, “Всем жертвую ему, и для его спасенья, “Хотяб то стоило Флоризе униженья, “Унижу я себя: я чувства усладил, Что страждущих от мук собою свободил. С Флоризой руки мы свои соединили, Родителя ея спокойно приклонили, Стезями блискими в дом мой его несли. Чертоги! что от бед сих страждущих спасли, В каком вы для меня приятном виде были! Вы добродетели убежище открыли. Она по всем местам в опасностях была, И вас пристанищем единым избрала; От гибели она, от грозна рока крылась, Спокойство здесь нашла, и здесь она вместилась. Мой друг! я сердце здесь Флоризе посвятил, Я здесь мою любовь во чувствах ощутил; Познал я жизни сей приятство и блаженство, Познал я некое в Флоризе совершенство; С тех пор как начал я с ней время разделять, Достоинство ея умею познавать, Душа ея и нрав, краса и разсужденье, Повергнули меня, в любовно восхищенье, В ней правда с чесностью во всех делах видна, И добродетельми наполнена она; Всех должностей брежет со строгостью уставы, Хранит родителю принадлежащи правы, В ней свойства нежныя, в ней чувства нежны есть, И не причастны к ней коварство, злоба, лесть. Я прежде чувствиям Флоризы удивлялся; Потóм их только чтил, и после восхищался. Движенья разныя, мою волнуя кровь, Составили во мне нежнейшую любовь,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 217 She spoke hurriedly, “Promest! Generous is he who feels pity And guides the unfortunate to good fortune. You wish to lead us from calamity to serenity. Alas! I will go to your house to save my father. I will sacrifice everything for him and for his salvation. Though it cause Floriza humiliation, I will humiliate myself.”—I took comfort That I was freeing suffering people from torment. Floriza and I joined hands. We calmly laid her father down. We carried him along the nearby paths toward my house. My manor, which saved these suffering people from misfortune! What a pleasant sight you were! You opened a refuge for virtue. Everywhere it was in danger And it chose you alone for refuge. Virtue was hiding from ruin; from a dreadful fate. It found tranquility here and here it settled. My friend! Here I dedicated my heart to Floriza. Here I sensed that I loved. I recognized life’s pleasantness and happiness. I recognized a certain perfection in Floriza. From the moment I began to spend time with her, I recognized her virtues. Her soul and her temperament; her beauty and her reason Delighted me with love. She displays truth and integrity in everything And herself is virtuous. She strictly maintains the statutes of her duties. She honors the rights of her father. She has a tender nature and tender feelings. She takes no part in trickery, malice, or flattery. I used to marvel at Floriza’s feelings, Then I only honored them, and later delighted in them. Various emotions agitated my blood And gave rise to my tender love.

218 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova С поспешностью любовь свой пламень разжигает, И скоро на сердца оковы налагает; Могущество свое в кратчайши времена Явила надо мной с успехаим она; Флоризой муки я, и радость познаваю. В минуты те, когда я с нею не бываю, Мне кажется, что я мученьем умерщвлен; А мню, узрев ея, что к радостям рожден: Веселости ея мой дух увеселяют, Ея мучения мне муки приключают. Всем жертвую для ней, с ней жизнь мою делю, Так буду ввек любить, как ныне я люблю. Не может к ней любовь в Проместе истребялться; Лишь станет времянем сильнее вкореняться, И щастье дней моих ей станет процветать; С ней мысли стану я, с ней волю соглашать. Сколь трудно было мне, любезый друг! постигнуть, Могу ли щастия прямаго я достигнуть? Флориза видела, что я пускаю стон; Но мнила, что любви причастен не был он. Медленье строгое она употребляла, И в чувствие ко мне и в сердце проникала, Притворство чаяла, вместилось в грудь мою, Предосторожностью питала мысль свою; Но можетли любовь прямая укрываться, И в виды ложные искусно пременяться? Не трудно нам ея с притворством различить, Флориза верила, что начал я любить, Что пагубная лесть во вне не обитает, И сердцу силу всю любови ощущает. Мой пламень во крови во точности узря, Сомнения свои на нежность претворя, Свою любовь с моей любовью съединяла: Но скромностью своей ту склонность укрывала. Однако разсмотря терзание сие, Что ей похищено спокойствие мое, Что мной отчаянье и грусти обладали,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 219 Love lights its fire in haste And quickly lays its fetters upon our hearts. It lost no time in displaying Its complete power over me. Through Floriza I know torment and joy. When I am not with her It seems torments have destroyed me; But catching sight of her, I feel myself born to joy: Her gaiety amuses my spirit. Her torments constitute my tortures. I sacrifice everyone for her; I share my life with her. Thus will I love forever as I love now. Promest’s love for her cannot be destroyed; With time it will only take root more deeply And the happiness of my days will flourish through love. I shall accord my thoughts and will with hers. Dear friend, how difficult it was for me to understand That I could attain true happiness! Floriza saw that I let out a moan, But did not think it related to love. She made use of the cruel delay And tried to comprehend my feelings and heart. She thought deception had entered my breast. Her thoughts tread cautiously. But can true love be concealed And artfully turned to false appearance? We have no difficulty distinguishing it from pretense. Floriza believed that I had begun to love; That there was no such thing as vile flattery And that hearts can sense all the power of love. Seeing the real fire in my blood, Turning her doubts into tenderness, She joined her love with mine. But modesty concealed her affection. Noting my suffering, And that she had stolen my peace of mind, That I was possessed by despair and grief,

220 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Что муки всякой час стенящу грудь терзали, Что дни мои в тоске и в горестях текут, Что скорби слезной ток, стремительно влекут; Познала, что хранить ей скромность бесполезно, Не льзя то оскорблять, что стало нам любезно. Мой друг! все нежности Флориза сохраня, Смяхчалась, извлекла из горестей меня, И душу мне свою и чувствие открыла, Мне верность вечную в награду осудила: Любови мы сердца на жертву принесли, Ея уставами свой глас произнесли: Что верность утвердим пред сильными богами, Что в храме брачными покроемся венцами. На верх блаженства нас судьбина возвела, Промест Флоризе мил, она ему мила. Какия таинства в себе любовь скрывает! Все области своей на свете покоряет: Мой друг! мы новую отраду зрим сердцам; За щастьем щастие течет другое к нам. Смерть алчна своего удара не свершила, Отца Флоризина она не поглотила. Он действо чувствует в него влиянных сил, Рок жизнию его, нас щастьем наградил. Флориза радости душевныя вкушает, Отец ея свой дух весельем наслаждает, Что старость мы его собой увеселим, Когда с Флоризою мы жизнь соединим; Пребыть в надежде сей он правости имеет, Промест его любить, и чтить его умеет, И сыном я ему и другом быть хощу, Я искренность мою с покорством сообщу. Утехи новыя и ты, мой друг! встречаешь, Ты друга новаго в Флоризе получаешь. Союзом съединя со мною та себя, Со дружеством почтит она, как я тебя, И тем мою к себе горячность усугубит, Флориза дружество как я, подобно любит.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 221 That torments tore at my moaning breast each hour, That my days flowed by in anguish and misfortune, That I shed copious tears of suffering, She understood that her modesty was in vain. ’Twas impossible to demean what we held dear. My friend! Floriza, honoring her tender feelings, relented. She pulled me from my grief And opened her soul and feelings to me. As a reward, she sentenced me to eternal fidelity. We brought our hearts in sacrifice to love. In accordance with its statutes, our voices proclaimed That we would confirm our fidelity before the powerful gods, That we would wear the wedding crowns in church. Fate has raised us to the height of happiness. Promest is dear to Floriza, and she is dear to him. What mysteries love conceals within itself! Everything in the world submits to its domain. My friend! We behold a new joy in our hearts. We have happiness upon happiness. Death did not conclude its covetous blow. It did not take Floriza’s father. He feels renewed strength. Fate rewarded him with life and us with happiness. Floriza takes pleasure in spiritual joys. Her father takes heart at her gaiety And knows that when Floriza and I unite our lives We shall care for him in his old age. He is justified in that hope: Promest is able to love and honor him. And I wish to be a son and friend to him. I shall humbly declare my sincerity. You too, my friend, are greeted by new pleasures. You gain a new friend in Floriza. Joining with me, She shall respect you in friendship as I do And in so doing strengthen my passion for her. Floriza loves friendship as I do.

222 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Все щастие мое в том стану только чтить, Чтоб другом быв тебе, Флоризу ввек любить. Офира к Медору О горесть! жалобу из сердца вырывай! Отчаянье мое! ты муки не скрывай, Вещай со ужасом во все пределы мира, Как стонет, рвется как, нещастная Офира, Пускай вселенная внимает скорбь мою, Мученья моего пред светом не таю; Но пользу от того иметь какую чаю? Ах! нет, не свету я стенание внушаю, К Медору одному писанье обращу, Ему единому всю горесть сообщу; Неверный мой супруг! что сделал ты со мною? Погибели моей соделался виною. Все нежности мои тиранством возмутил, За верную любовь злодейством отомстил. За что мне часть сию, жестокой! предуставил? За что ты верную супругу здесь оставил? Когда бы ты меня в бедах предупредил, И сердце бы мое к мученью приучил, Я лехче бы могла гонение сносити; Но ты меня хотел к спокойству приучити: Привыкла я с тобой Медор во щастье жить, С тобой привыкла я всю жинь мою делить. Любовь твоя меня всечасно восхищала, Я тока слезнаго от мук не испускала, Лишь слезы радостей нередко я лила, О том, что я тебе, как жизнь твоя мила. Но ах! я все теперь, Медор, тобой теряю, Все грусти вдруг увы! тобою познаваю, Cуровство злобное питает мысль твою; Тоска, отчаянье, терзают грудь мою. Нещастна наша дочь со мною сострадает, В младенчестве своем всю горесть понимает.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 223 I shall consider my happiness complete only when I remain your friend while loving Floriza forever. Ophira to Medor O grief! Tear this lament from my heart! My despair! Do not conceal your torment. Proclaim with horror to all corners of the earth How the unfortunate Ophira moans; how she is torn apart. Let the world note my grief; I do not hide my torments from society. But what use is this? Ah! Not to the world do I entrust my moaning; To Medor alone I shall address my letter. To him alone I shall impart my grief. My unfaithful husband! What have you done to me? You have ruined me. You disturbed all my tender feelings with your tyranny; You took revenge on my faithful love with wickedness. Why, cruel man, did you appoint me this fate? Why have you abandoned your faithful wife here? If you had warned me about my misfortunes And trained my heart for torment, I could more easily have endured this persecution. But you wished to instill tranquility. Medor, I was accustomed to living with you happily. I was accustomed to sharing my whole life with you. Your love always delighted me. Torments never made me shed a stream of tears. Only tears of joy I often shed Because I was as dear to you as your own life. But, ah! Medor, now you make me lose everything. Alas! Suddenly you make me feel every sorrow. A malicious cruelty nourishes your thoughts. Anguish and despair tear at my breast. Our unfortunate daughter suffers with me. In her youth she understands grief.

224 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova В объятия мои повергнуться спешит, О имени твоем со горестью твердит. Достойналь за любовь я сей лютейшей части? Увы! ждала ли я в сей день своей напасти? Жестокой! для чего ты мысли пременил? Не горести ты мне, спокойствие сулил. Ты здешния страны желая удалиться, С поспешностью хотел от града отлучиться. Супруге ты открыл намеренье свое; Склонила я к тому желание мое. Стремяся мысль мою с твоею соглашати, Спешила все к пути сама приготовляти, Моим рачением тебе покой дала, Ах, сколь моя была забота мне мила! На что ни кину взор, все дух мой восхищало, К чему ни прикоснусь, все радости вещало. Во всем готовила спокойство для тебя, С восторгом в путь с тобой готовила себя; Хотяб в подземныя пещеры ты сокрылся, В дремучие леса хотя бы удалился, Умела бы с тобой везде спокойно жить, Умела бы всегда и всем довольна быть. Мне дикия места едемом бы казались, И чувстваб радостью единой наслаждались. Какое щастие с тобой вкушалаб я! Но ах! свирепый рок! о злая часть моя! Промчались радости, а грусти вдруг вселились; И дух, и чувствия, и мысли возмутились. Обманчивой отъезд супруге ты сулил, К отъезду нашему сей день назначен был. О день нещастия! День вечнаго мученья! Начало строгих бед, начало огорченья! Неверный! что за скорбь в сей день ты мне открыл! Со трепетом внимай, как ты меня сразил! Мне страшна ночь сия погибель предсказала: Мечталось мне, что я в кустарниках лежала, Покрытыя поля я зрела муравой,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 225 She hastens to throw herself into my embrace. She utters your name sorrowfully. Do I merit this bitter lot in exchange for my love? Alas! Did I await my misfortune on this day? Cruel man! What has made you change your mind? Not grief did you promise me, but serenity. Wishing to leave these lands, You wanted to absent yourself from the city in haste. You revealed your intention to your wife. I too wished for it. Striving to accord my thoughts with yours, I myself hastened to prepare everything for the journey. My efforts gave you peace of mind. Ah, how dear I found those tasks! No matter where I cast my gaze, everything captivated my spirit; No matter what I touched, it promised deep joy. I prepared everything to ensure your serenity. Delighted, I prepared to join you on your journey. If you were to hide in subterranean caverns, If you were you to retire to the dark forests, Still I could live peacefully with you anywhere. I could be content always and with everything. The wilderness would seem an Eden102 to me, And my feelings would delight in joy alone. What happiness I would enjoy with you! But, ah! cruel fate! O my disastrous lot! Joys have fled and suddenly sadness settled in; And my spirit, feelings, and thoughts have been disturbed. ’Twas a deceptive departure you promised your wife. This was the day appointed for our departure. O day of misfortune! Day of eternal torment! Fount of harsh misfortunes, fount of distress! Unfaithful man! What sort of sorrow did you reveal to me today! Listen closely to how you destroyed me! That terrible night foretold my ruin: I dreamt that I was lying amidst the thickets. I saw fields covered in stones.

226 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Зефиры вкруг цветов играли предо мной; С одной страны ручей и холм казался взору, С другой увидела я каменную гору; Ты оныя горы вершину досязал, И камни твердыя ногами попирал; К тебе пуская глас, я руки простираю, В объятия мои Медора призываю; Но взоры от меня ты грубо отвратил И лютую змею из рук своих пустил. Она с вершины сей спускаясь извилася И жало испустя во грудь ко мне впилася. Впилась казалося, и кровь мою сосет, Упала мертвая… Мечта весь дух мой рвет! Мне в память врезалось такое сновиденье, В движеньи чувства все, вся кровь была в волненье, Со трепетом от сна я очи отворя, Спешу тебя узреть смятением горя, Но ах! в одре моем тебя не обретаю; Зову тебя к себе, но тщетно глас пускаю. Не ты ко мне пришел, но грусти притекли, Как стражи лютые мой одр они стрегли. Лишь только день настал, они меня встречали; А радости сквозь их поспешно прочь бежали. С одра возстала я; ищу тебя везде; Но нет тебя, Медор, ах! нет тебя нигде! В смятении по всем чертогам я кидалась, Нещастна дочь со мной в пути моем встречалась; Бегущая ко мне потоки слез лиет, Письмо твоей руки в своих руках несет. Не знаю отчего, я духом встрепетала, Из рук письмо рвала, и в нем сие читала: “Офира! я тебя оставить предприял, “С тобою ложной путь тебе приготовлял. “Вини Офира ты, вини ты в том судьбину, “Семь дней пройдет, и ты познаешь всю причину, “Котора от тебя супруга прочь влечет: “Писание мое решенье принесет.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 227 All around the flowers zephyrs played before me. From one side of the brook, a hill also appeared to my eyes. From the other side, I caught sight of a stony mountain. You had reached the mountain’s peak And placed your feet upon the hard stones. I sent forth my voice to you, I stretched out my arms, I called Medor to my embrace. But you abruptly turned your gaze from me And released a fierce serpent from your hands. It slithered around, descending from the peak, And having released its fangs, bit into my breast. It bit me, it seemed, and sucked my blood. I fell dead … This reverie tore at my whole soul! This dream became etched into my memory. All my feelings were disturbed and my blood was agitated. Gently opening my eyes from this dream, I hastened to you, burning with anxiety. But, ah! I did not find you in my bed. I called you to me, but sent forth my voice in vain. ’Twas not you who arrived, but rather sorrows that flooded in. Like fierce sentries they guarded my bed. They met me just as the day arrived And caused joy to flee in haste. I rose from my bed; I searched for you everywhere. But Medor, you were not there! Ah! You were nowhere to be found! Anxiously I rushed from room to room. Our unfortunate daughter crossed my path. Running toward me, she shed a stream of tears. In her hands she carried a letter written in your hand. I knew not why, but my spirit was troubled. I tore the letter from her hands and read: “Ophira! I have left you. Together, you and I had been preparing a false journey. Ophira, blame fate for this. In seven days you shall know Why your husband was drawn away from you: My letter will carry my judgment.

228 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova “Коль мысли ты свои мне хощешь сообщати, “Подщусь к тому тебе я способы снискати. “Офира! муки все готовься ты снести, “Супруга! дочь моя! отечество! прости.” Неверный! как могу тебе изобразити? Сколь сильно ты умел Офиру поразити! Движенья первыя затмили разум мой, Я слов не поняла начертанных тобой. Сто раз в беспамятстве писание читала; Но духом не рвалась, слез не проливала, Все чувства умерли, и бодрствовала я, Теченье прервала во жилах кровь моя. Когда взрыдала дочь, главу мою держща, Опомнилася я ужé в одре лежаща. О память! для чего ты мне возвращена? На что я моего забвенья лишена? На что вы чувствия движенья получили? На что мою печаль во мне не умертвили? Рассудок! ты меня напастей бы лишил, Когда бы мысль мою на веки ты затмил! Но ах! я скоро скорбь сердечну ощутила, К отчаянью мои все мысли обратила. Я вымыслить себе тиранску смерть хощу, К самоубийствию, стремленье обращу. Медор! ты в грудь мою сей острый меч вонзаешь; Не рок меня сразит, ты жизнь мою кончаешь, И тем приобретешь: конечно свой покой. Скажи на что ты так отъезд устроил свой? Реши мою, Медор, скоряй реши, судьбину, Нещастья моего поведай мне притчину. Не яль к тому, не яль понудила тебя? И сильно столь тебя со нежностью любя, Не горестьюль тебя какою раздражила? И не ко гневу ли какому возбудила? … Ах! нет, во всем тебе послушна я была, Изчислю в памяти я все мои дела: Я верности к тебе, Медор, не нарушала,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 229 If you wish to inform me of your thoughts, I shall try to find a way for you to do so. Ophira! Prepare to endure every torment. My wife! My daughter! My fatherland! Farewell!” Unfaithful man! How can I express to you What a powerful blow you dealt Ophira! At first my feelings clouded my reason. I did not understand the words you had written. Delirious, I read the letter a hundred times, But my spirit was not torn apart; I did not shed tears. My feelings died, and I took heart. My blood ceased flowing in my veins. My daughter, supporting my head, began sobbing. And lying on my bed, I came to. O memory! Why have you returned to me? Why have I been deprived of oblivion? Why have my feelings been stirred? Why was my sadness not destroyed? Reason! If you had eclipsed my thoughts forever You might have saved me from misfortune! But, ah! I soon felt true grief And my every thought turned to despair. I wish to devise my own terrible death; I yearn for suicide. Medor! ’Tis you who plunge this sharp sword into my breast. ’Tis not fate strikes me down; ’tis you who ends my life And in so doing you shall at last gain your peace. Tell me, why did you arrange your departure like that? Medor, decide without delay; decide my fate. Explain the reason for my misfortune. Did I, did I make you do it? Loving you so tenderly, Did I annoy you with some sort of grief? Did I vex you with some kind of sorrow? Ah! No, I obeyed you in everything. Let me recite all my deeds: Medor, I never violated my faithfulness to you;

230 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova К другому никогда любви не обращала. Соделала закон со строгостью себе, Чтобы не приключать малейших мук тебе. Желания твои я все предупреждала, И мысль и чувствия с тобою соглашала. Ты сам тому, Медор, ты сам, свидетель был, Что сей закон во мне все действо сохранил; Так я себя винить безвинно не дерзаю, Намерений твоих, увы! не постигаю; Когдаб совместницей страдала часть моя, Неверности твои конечноб зрела я; Любовь твою ко мне, я строго примечала И к ревности причин себе не обретала. Так чтож тебя, Медор, к отсутствию влечет? Иль щастье от меня тебя к себе зовет? Коль благо новое отъездом ты встречаешь? Так для чего меня тех радостей лишаешь? Не сталаб твоего я щастья нарушать, Лишь стала бы сама участие в том брать; Но ты не для того стези свои направил, Для щастия меня Медор бы не оставил. Какияже к тому причины ты имел? Открой мне действие своих суровых дел. Напасти моея притчина, коль решится, Так может быть моя тем горесть усладится. Отраду может быть найду в моей судьбе: Ах нет! не верь, Медор, я льщу сама себе. Не те стремления, не ту я мысль имею, Я горести ничем умерить не умею. Когда ужé тебя не вижу я с собой, Не нужно мне узнать, чем трачу сей покой; Мне слабы будут все причины те казаться, Которые велят со мной тебе разстаться, И горести моей они не облехчат. Медор! куда мои меня желаньи мчат! Ах! Естьлиб знала я, где ныне пребываешь, В которую страну ты путь свой направляешь,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 231 I never loved another. I steadfastly set myself the law Of never causing you the slightest torment. I anticipated all your desires And accorded my thoughts and feelings with yours. Medor, you yourself bore witness That this law maintained its full power over me. Thus, I shall not accuse myself groundlessly. Alas! I cannot fathom your intentions! If a rival had caused my destiny to suffer, I certainly would have seen your infidelity. I carefully observed your love for me And found no cause for jealousy. Medor, what draws you away? Or does fortune call you from me? If your departure brings you new blessings, Then why deprive me of those joys? I would never destroy your good fortune, But only take part in it myself. But not for that did you set out on your voyage. Medor would not have left me to find fortune. What reasons did you have? Reveal to me the motive for your harsh deeds. Once the cause of my misfortune has been explained, Perhaps my grief will be relieved. Perhaps I shall find joy in my fate. Ah, no! Medor, do not believe it; I deceive myself. Those are not my wishes nor my thoughts: I am utterly unable to restrain my grief. When you are not beside me, I need not wonder why I have no peace of mind. To me, any reason will seem feeble If it commands you to part with me, And it will not alleviate my sorrow. Medor! Whither do I rush, carried along by my desires! Ah! If only I knew where you were now, To which land you had set your course.

232 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Отважно за тобой пустилась бы во след, И презрела бы я свирепость лютых бед, Опасностям бы всем охотно предалася, Пускай бы жизнь моя, пускай бы не спаслася. Подвергла бы себя свирепости морей, Подверглась лютости я хищных бы зверей. Пускай бы тем тебя, жестокой, не смхчила, Пускай бы от тебя презренье получила. Мне лехче зря тебя презрение сносить, Чем быть в почтении, и ах! с тобой не быть. Мучение одно с другим соединяю, Не зрю Медора я; и где Медор? …не знаю! Хотя бы то, увы! к отраде мне открыл, Куда ты от меня, куда свой взор сокрыл? Здесь все мою тоску, здесь все напоминает, И все тебя, Медор! мне все воображает. На что ни погляжу, во всем тебя я зрю, Снедаема тоской любовию горю. Какой мучительной отрадой наслаждаюсь, Где ты со мной ходил, к следам твоим бросаюсь! Какия прелести они являют мне! Медор! Твое лицо я вижу на стене. Я зрю твои черты к Офире обращенны. Ах! сколько живо те, Медор, изображенны. Лобзаю я тебя, … но грубыя черты! Они безчувственны, бесчувствен как и ты, Они моей любви и плача не внимают, Подобно и тебя те слезы не смяхчают. В погибели моей находишь твой покой, Страдать осуждена навеки я тобой. В мучение, в беды Офира погружена, Ни чем не буду я из грусти извлеченна. Противен целый свет, противна жизнь моя, Лишь только мне мила, неверный! жизнь твоя. Холодностью тебе супруга не отмщает, И силу всей любви во сердце ощущает. По смерть мою, Медор, тебе не изменю,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 233 I would courageously set out after you And scorn the ferocity of cruel misfortunes. I would gladly submit to any danger. Let my life not be spared. I would throw myself into the savage seas. I would throw myself to the fierce beasts of prey. Brute, even if this would not make you relent; Even if I were to receive nothing but your scorn, Still, to endure scorn would be easier—alas!— Than to be respected, but parted from you. I join one suffering with another. I do not see Medor; and where is Medor?… I know not! Alas! Even if, to my joy, you revealed Whither you have gone, whither you have hidden your gaze, Still, everything here reminds me of my anguish And Medor, everything makes me think of you. No matter where I look, I see you in everything. Consumed by anguish, I burn with love. I delight in such tormenting joy. Where you used to walk with me, I fall upon your traces! How beautiful they are to me! Medor! I see your face upon the wall. I behold your features turned toward Ophira. Ah, Medor, how vividly they are depicted. I kiss you … But they are coarse features! They are unfeeling, just as you are unfeeling. They do not listen to my love or my cries. Like you, they are not softened by these tears. You find your peace in my ruin. I am fated to suffer forever by your hand. Ophira is plunged into torment and misfortune. Nothing will pull me from this grief. The whole world is repulsive; my life is repulsive. Unfaithful man, only your life do I hold dear. Your wife shall not coldly take revenge on you And her heart feels all the power of her love. Medor, I shall not betray you upon my death;

234 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Супружества союз вовеки сохраню. Во мне любовницу, во мне имеешь друга, А я в тебе нашла невернаго супруга. Смяхчись, Медор! Смхчись на горести мои, Ко нежностям склони суровости свои; Все горести мои возможешь усладати, Спеши ко мне себя, спеши ты возвратити; И знай, что я тебе роптаньем не отмщу, Я все твои вины охотно отпущу… Но ах какая мысль! Какое вображенье! Невозвратимое теряю утешенье. Надежда! от меня отраду отдали, И ложных радостей, Офире не сули. Унылыя сердца ты часто ободряешь; Но часто, часто ты обманчива бываешь. Прибегнути к тебе нещастная страшусь; Отчаянье мое! тебе я предаюсь. Из горестей души моей не извлекаю, Супруга видеть здесь, увы! не уповаю. Томись прискорбный дух! томись, горяща кровь! Но в сердце страждущем живи, живи любовь! И верность горестью моею умножайся. Свирепости своей, неверный, ужасайся. Грызенье совести не мучит ли тебя? Не подвергаешь ли раскаянью себя? И гласу ты ужé природы не внимаешь; Медор! ты дочь свою нещастью подвергаешь. Объята муками, и горестью моей, Могу ли я иметь рачение о ней. Ах! может быть она в пороки погрузится. Способналь буду я ко долгу обратиться, И добродетели ей в сердце вкоренять, Какие стану ей примеры подавать? Коль мне она во всем захочет подражати, Так будет лишь уметь, грустить и унывати. Я больше не к чему на свете не стремлюсь,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 235 I shall forever uphold our marital union. In me you have a lover and a friend, But in you I found an unfaithful husband. Medor, relent! Relent in the face of my grief. Incline your severity towards tenderness. You can relieve all my grief. Hasten to me, hasten to return And know that I shall not take revenge on you with murmuring complaints. I shall gladly excuse all your transgressions… But, ah, what a thought! What an image! I am losing my irreperable solace. Hope! Keep joy at a distance And do not promise Ophira false gladness. You often reassure despairing hearts, But often you are deceived. Unfortunate woman that I am, I fear resorting to you. My despair! I put myself in your hands. In my grief, I do not take my own life. Alas! I hold no hope of seeing my husband here. My sorrowful spirit, suffer! Suffer, my burning blood! But love, live in my tormented heart, live! And fidelity, be strengthened by my grief. Unfaithful man, be horrified by your cruelty. Does your gnawing conscience not torment you? Are you not subject to remorse? And yet you fail to harken the voice of nature. Medor! You subject your daughter to misfortune. Seized by grief and sorrow, Am I able to tend to her? Ah! Perhaps she will sink into vice. Shall I manage to attend to my duties And instill virtue in her heart? What example can I offer her? If she wishes to imitate me in everything Then she will learn only how to grieve and despair. No longer do I strive for anything in this world.

236 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova О должности моей нимало не пекусь. Пускай нещастна дочь в пороках утопает, И воспитания пускай не получает. Медор! меня терзав, ты вреден стал и ей, Обеих мучишь нас, обеим нам злодей! Злодей!… А я к нему еще любовь имею. Злодея моево на что любить умею? Ах нет! тебя сего названия лишу, Прости отчаянью, не знаю, что пишу! Что чувствую теперь, что мышлю я, не знаю. Писание мое я лучше окончаю. Моим роптанием Медору раздражу, И может быть ему суровости скажу, Любезный мой супруг! хотя меня оставил; Хотя мучение мне ныне предуставил; Хоть слезы от тебя потоками лию; Хоть вижу всю теперь суровость я твою; Хоть меня увы! Медор возненавидишь, Во мне всегда любовь и друга ты увидишь. Ни чем против себя меня не воружишь, Горячности моей ни чем не уменьшишь: Во мне моя любовь к тебе запечатленна, И горестью она не будет излеченна. Скоряе жизнь мою печали прекратят, Чем твердую любовь во сердце умертвят. Медор! тебе верна была, и есть, и буду, А смертию одной печаль мою забуду, Всечасно о тебе я стану слезы лить, И стану в горестях терзаться и любить. Медор к Офире Офира! твоего спокойства возмутитель! Природы, должности и чести нарушитель! Преступник истины, к ногам твоим падет, Склонися к жалости! смяхчись теперь!… но нет. Офира! моего тиранства ужасайся!

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 237 I am not in the least concerned with my duty. Let my unfortunate daughter wallow in vice And let her be denied her proper upbringing. Medor! Having tortured me, you do her harm as well. You torment us both; You are an enemy to us both! An enemy! . . yet still I love him. How can it be that I love my enemy? Ah, no! I shall spare you that name. Forgive my despair! I know not what I write! I know not what I feel now, what I think. I best conclude this letter. I will irritate Medor with these murmurs of complaint And perhaps utter harsh words. My beloved husband! Although you abandoned me, Although you have arranged torments for me now, Although I shed streams of tears because of you, Although I now see all your cruelty, Although—alas!—Medor, you hate me; You will always find in me love and friendship. Nothing you do could incite me against you. Nothing you do could lessen my sorrow. My love for you has been engraved in my soul And will not be cured by grief. Better that my sorrow should end my life Than destroy the steadfast love in my heart. Medor! I was, am, and shall be faithful to you. And only in death shall I forget my sorrow. Every moment I shall shed tears for you. And in my misfortunes, I shall suffer and love. Medor to Ophira Ophira! ’Tis the disturber of your peace! He who violates nature, duty, and honor! This criminal against truth falls at your feet. Have pity! Relent! … but no! Ophira! Be horrified at my tyranny!

238 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Забудь меня, забудь, и мною возгнушайся. Удобно ли тебе преступника простить! Когда злодействия не станут люди мстить, То добродетели чем будут награждаться? О честность! ты должна от злобы отличаться. Но мнель о честности и правде рассуждать, Когда пороки мной умеют обладать? О вы! которых свет на казни осуждает, Которых смерть ни в ком печали не раждает, Убийцы! вы теперь должны торжествовать, Не льзя в тиранствах вам примеров подавать, Жестокость ваших душ моею умяхчилась И злоба ваших дел моей виной затмилась. Не вы, но я пример злодействия кажу, Далеко ныне вас я всех превосхожу; Вы смертных род; а я супругу убиваю, Вы жизнь мечем, а я печалью отнимаю; Но что злодействия не открываю я? Увы! трепещет дух! дрожит рука моя! Смущаюсь, рвусь, грущу, рыдаю и робею, Вины моей сказать и силы не имею. Какое странное движенье во крови! О сердце! ты свое волнение прерви! Вы, мысли томныя к бесстыдству обратитесь, И вам не свойственных смятений удалитесь. Отважность в сердце я жестокую внушу, Офира! я тебе дела мои глашу: Увы! познай, что я священны прервал узы, И уничтожились мной брачные союзы. Я должную любовь из сердца изтребил, И страсти жертвуя, супруге изменил. Та верность, что во мне лет неколько хранилась, В измену, в зверство, в лесть, в бесстыдство пременилась. Совместницей твоей решилась часть сия; И ктож совместница? увы! Сестра твоя! Мы с нею правила природы забывали, Мы страсти покорясь, против тебя возстали!

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 239 Forget me; forget and despise me. Is it fitting for you to forgive a criminal? If people no longer avenge evil deeds Then how will virtues be rewarded? O, honesty! You must be distinguished from malice. But is it for me to expound honesty and truth When I am possessed by vice? O you, murderers! Whom society condemns to execution; Whose death never gives rise to pity. You must now rejoice. You no longer set the example for tyranny. Your cruelty seems mild in comparison to mine And your spiteful deeds are eclipsed by my own crimes. Not you, but I set the example for wicked deeds. I now far surpass you all. You kill the human race, but I kill my wife. You take lives by the sword, but I do so by sorrow. But why do I not reveal my wicked deeds? Alas! My spirit is troubled! My hand trembles! I rage, despair, grieve, sob, and cower. I have not the strength to state my misdeed. What a strange sensation in my blood! O heart! Stop your commotion! Sad thoughts! Discard your shame And leave behind this unnatural turmoil. I shall imbue my heart with ruthless courage. Ophira! I give voice to my deeds: Alas! Know that I have broken our sacred bonds And destroyed our marital union. I removed dutiful love from my heart And giving myself over to passion, I betrayed my wife. The fidelity I had preserved for years Was transformed into infidelity, brutality, flattery, and shamelessness. This fate was decided by your rival. And who is this rival? Alas! ’Tis your sister! She and I forgot the rules of nature; Submitting to passion, we rose against you!

240 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Офира! пред собой двух извергов ты зришь! К одной ты дружество, к другому страсть хранишь. Врага нашла в сестре, ты в ней считала друга, Тобой любимаго, злодеем зришь супруга! Какую мысль имел позорно я любя, Притворной ласкою обманывал тебя. Ты чувствия мои своими измеряла, Любовью истинной лукавство почитала. Под видом нежности я в сердце яд скрывал, Цветами лести злой отраду прикрывал. Когда сестра твоя от града удалилась, За нею следовать душа моя стремилась Я благо в том считал и радость, и покой, Что тайно убежав расстануся с тобой. Сестра твоя к тому согласие казала, И клятвою меня к измене обязала, Питая пламень мой в сердце и в крови, Я слепо следовал стремлению любви; Завесу мне она на очи возложила, И страстию меня как мраком окружила; Открыла способ мне лететь к сестре твоей. Повиновался я всесильной власти сей. Жестокой сей обман я начал совершати, И лаской думая притворство украшати; Тебе я объявил, что еду в путь с тобой, Дабы удобнее отъезд готовить свой. Я злую часть тебе Офира предуставил, Я спящую тебя в одре моем оставил; Но взоры на тебя кидал нередко я, Являлась на лице, погибель мне твоя. Не наслаждалась ты приятностию ночи, И рука возложа на затворенны очи, Металась по одру, произносила стон, Вздыханием твоим перерывался сон. Казалось, слезной ток из глаз твоих катился, Тебя облобызав, с тобою я простился, Движенья страшныя в мою вступуили кровь;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 241 Ophira! You see before you two monsters! Toward the one you preserve friendship; toward the other, passion. You have found an enemy in your sister; you thought her a friend. You behold in your husband an enemy whom you love! What thoughts I entertained with my shameful love! I deceived you with feigned caresses. You measured my feelings in accordance with your own And mistook trickery for true love. I hid poison in my heart under the guise of tenderness. I concealed my joy with evil flattery. When your sister left the city, My soul longed to follow her. I thought that once I had secretly fled, I would be parted with you And thus find peace of mind, blessings, and joy. Your sister agreed And bound me to this infidelity with a vow. Nourishing this flame in my heart and blood, I blindly followed this yearning for love. It veiled my eyes And enveloped me in passion as if in darkness. I found a way to hasten to your sister. I submitted to this all-powerful force. I started upon this cruel deception And, thinking affection would put the finishing touch on this pretense, I announced to you that we would set off together, So that I might more easily prepare my own departure. Ophira, I decided your terrible fate. I left you sleeping in my bed, But frequently I glanced at you. I saw your own ruination upon your face. You could not enjoy the pleasant night. Laying a hand upon your closed eyes, You tossed about in bed and moaned. Your sighs interrupted your sleep. It seemed a stream of tears rolled from your eyes. I kissed you and bid you farewell. My blood became frighteningly agitated,

242 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Но усмирила их позорная любовь: Она с природою в душе моей сразилась, Невинна дочь моя мне в мыслях вобразилась. Я жалость, рвение и муки ощущал; Но силою любви ту жалость отвращал. Меня несчастна дочь и последний раз объемлет, Из рук моих она письмо к тебе приемлет, Но путь из града я когда направил мой, Не знаю отчего исчез мой весь покой; Душа моя печаль, не радость ощущала, И самая любовь меня не восхищала. Не тщился я ужé к сестре твоей спешить, И с медленностию путь старался продолжить. Но только мысль моя к супруге устремится, Источник из очей слез горьких покатится. Причины действия сего не ведал я, Сей тайны не могла постигнуть мысль моя, Коль совесть нас в делах порочных обличает, Страдание сердцам невольно приключает; К раскаянью потóм ведет поспешно нас, И мыслям не дает покоя ни на час; Она во мне тогда мученье вкоренила; Но сколько ни была ея велика сила, Не мог я точно страсть позорну исзребить, Не мог злодейскаго желанья не свершить. Свой путь не отменил, к тебе не возвратился; Не знал, что делал я, грустил, вздыхал, томился, В моем смятении напоминал себе, Что я обязан был письмо писать к тебе. Седмь дней когда прошло, послушным я являлся. Офира! К злобе мой рассудок устремлялся! Я правду позабыв, безстыдну мысль имел, И обмануть тебя вторично я хотел; Хотел я вымыслить злодействую притчину, Письмом хотел винить жестокую судьбину, Что будто бы она с тобою нас делит, И мне отечество оставати велит.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 243 But my shameful love calmed it. In my soul it battled with nature. I imagined my innocent daughter. I felt pity, despair, and torments, But through the power of love I rejected that pity. My unfortunate daughter embraced me one last time. From my hands she accepted my letter to you. But when I set out from the city, All my calm disappeared; I know not why. My soul felt not joy, but sadness, And even love did not delight me. I no longer hoped to hasten to your sister But worked to continue along my way slowly. But as soon as my thoughts turned to my wife, A flood of bitter tears streamed from my eyes. I knew not the reason for this display. My mind could not fathom this mystery. When conscience exposes our depraved deeds, Suffering rises in our hearts despite ourselves Then quickly leads us to remorse And does not allow our thoughts even a moment of peace. So it was that my conscience increased my suffering. But no matter how great its power, I could not destroy my shameful passion. I could not help but accomplish this heinous desire. I did not change my course; I did not return to you. I knew not what I did; I grieved, sighed, and languished. In my agitation, I reminded myself That I must write you a letter. When seven days had passed, I complied. Ophira! My mind was intent upon ill will! Putting aside the truth, I entertained a shameful thought: I wished to deceive you a second time. I wished to devise a vile explanation. In my letter I wished to blame cruel fate, As though it had kept us apart And commanded me to leave the fatherland.

244 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova О дерзка мысль моя! какой ты яд питала! Тебя ужé сама судьба не ужасала! Отважился мой ум злодейством наполнять, Моей виной хотел судьбину обвинять. Приятством покорясь своей позорной страсти, Забыл я мщение небесной сильной власти. Достойно должен быть наказан я судьбой, Офира! дел моих не крою пред тобой! Бесчестных вымыслов хотел я быть содетель; Но ах! в душе твоей живуща добродетель, Твое страдание, твою невинность зря, Во слезное себя виденье претворя; Тебя от гибели и бегства защитила, Мне случай для тебя к раскаянью явила. Он стал источником к тебе любви моей, Офира! я тебе вещаю случай сей: Когда я должен был ужé к тебе писати, Я путь мой не хотел в то время продолжати; Отдыхновением своим его пресек, Остановился я у брега чистых рек. Тогда во небесах изчезла мрачность ночи, Повсюду я возвел мои смущенны очи; В прятном виде там открылась мне земля, Я видел в круг себя и рощи и поля, Зефир летал в лугах, цветкам давал дыханье, Я слышал чистых вод приятное журчанье, Природных прелестей встречался мне собор. Но в сих местах: увы! встревожился мой взор, Огромно здание очам моим предстало, Во мрачности оно густых лесов стояло. Растущи ветвия клонилися к стенам, И заслоняли путь прозрачным небесам. Шумели ветры там и листья колебались; Молчанье, тишина повсюду простирались. Во мрачность оных мест я очи устремил, Ужасным зрелищем встревожен вскоре был. Там близко здания жену я зрел стенящу,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 245 O, my brazen thought! What malice you harbored! Fate itself has not yet frightened you! I dared fill my mind with wicked deeds. I wished to blame fate for my crime. Submitting to the pleasure of my shameful passion, I forgot the vengeance of heaven’s mighty power. I should be duly punished by fate. Ophira! I do not hide my deeds before you! I wished to invent shameless falsehoods. But ah! Seeing your suffering and innocence, That living virtue in your soul Became a sorry sight unto itself. It protected you from ruin and from my flight. It gave me a chance to feel remorse. It then became the source of my love for you. Ophira! I shall tell you about this chance encounter: When already I should have written you, I no longer wished to continue along my journey. I stopped to take a rest. I halted by the banks of a clear river. At that time the gloom of night had faded in the sky. I raised my bewildered eyes all around. The land looked lovely. I saw groves and fields around me. The zephyr flew in the meadows; it perfumed the flowers. I heard the pleasant burbling of clear waters. I was greeted by all number of natural beauties. But, alas! I grew anxious in that place. An enormous building appeared before my eyes. It stood amidst the darkness of a dense forest. Branches grew toward its walls And blocked the path to the clear heavens. The winds began to blow and the leaves swayed. Silence and stillness settled all around. I fixed my eyes upon the gloom in that place. A terrible sight soon alarmed me. There I spied a woman moaning near the building.

246 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Безгласну у древес в отчаянье лежащу; Изображалися в ней младости красы: Она терзала грудь, рвала свои власы; Молчанием своим она являла муки, Спешила жизнь пресечь, кинжал приявши в руки. Я к ней приближился, хотел ей помощь дать, Дерзнул я, мук ея притчину вопрошать. “Увы! Она рекла! я жизнь мою кончаю, “ И в смерти лишь одной иметь отраду чаю, “Меня на месте сем супруг оставил мой. “Он мне неверен стал; но ах! любим он мной: “Он щастье у меня и радость похищает, “К самоубийствию изменой побуждает При сих словах она взнесла уже кинжал; Но я его своей рукою удержал. Нещастная жена против меня роптала, Меня она своим убийцем называла. Терзанием ея, терзалась грудь моя, Печали укротить хотел охотно я; Но мука горькая ея не утолилась, Востав, она рекла: “я духом ободрилась, “Не будешь власти ты имети надо мной, “И безпрепятственно я век скончаю мой. Сказав сии слова, от глаз моих скрывалась, И в дикия леса бежати устремлялась. Я следовал за ней, искал ее везде; Но не встречался с ней между древес ни где. Не знаю где она, и сталося что с нею. Наполня мысль мою я жалостию сею, Твое страдание Офира измерял, Нещастной сей жене тебя уподоблял, Воображал себе, что ты с ней в равной доле, И может быть о мне еще крушишься боле, Что я в презрение повергнути возмог, С тобою нашего супружества залог, Нещастной матери нещастну дочь вручаю, И тем обеих вас на муки осуждаю;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 247 She was lying by the trees, unable to speak and in despair. She possessed a youthful beauty. She tore at her breast and ripped at her hair. Her silence revealed her torment. Grabbing a dagger, she hastened to cut short her life. I approached her; I wished to offer help. I dared ask the cause of her torment. “Alas!” she said, “I put an end to my life And I know that in death alone I shall find joy. My husband abandoned me in this place. He was unfaithful to me. But, ah, I love him! He robs me of my happiness and joy. He pushes me to suicide with his betrayal.” With these words she already raised the dagger, But I held it back with my hand. The unfortunate woman took offense. She called me her murderer. My heart suffered along with her suffering. I keenly wished to calm her sorrows, But her bitter torment did not subside. She rose up and said, “I have mustered my courage. You shall not control me And I shall end my days unhindered.” Having said these words, she vanished from my sight And set off running toward the wild forest. I followed her; I sought her everywhere; But nowhere did I meet up with her amidst the trees. I know not where she is and what became of her. Ophira, filling my mind with compassion, I took measure of your suffering. I likened you to this unfortunate woman. I imagined that you shared her same fate And that you perhaps grieved all the more, Because I held in contempt The pledge of our matrimony. I entrusted an unfortunate daughter to an unfortunate mother And thereby condemned you both to torments.

248 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Вспомнил, что я тебя горестью убил, Неверностью твой век цветущей прекратил; А ежель ты его еще и продолжаешь, Так ты конечно смерть ему предпочитаешь. Изчисля муки все примером сим твои, Почувствовал я все злодействия мои. Ужасное меня смятение объяло, И сердце зверское во мне вострепетало. Из гнусных сих очей пустился слезный ток, Зловредна мысль моя познала свой порок; А совесть грудь мою раскаяньем сразила, Чудовищем она мне страсть мою явила, Которое свой яд во сердце мне кладет, И в действии своем его на части рвет. Ко должности ужé прибегнути я потщился, Познал ея закон, и ею просветился. Тиранства все мои превысила она, Защита мне от ней тогда была дана; Светильником мои все мысли осветила, Позорной жар она сим светом угасила. Oфира! я к тебе всю верность обратил, И пагубную страсть из сердца изтребил. Познай во мне, познай любовника и друга, Великодушная и верная супруга! Почувствуй ты мое признание! … смяхчись, Раскаяньем моим ко жалости склонись! Я жалобою тебя и прозьбой убеждаю! На нежность я твою надежду возлагаю. Офира! ты хранишь ея в душе своей, Дерзаю в горестях прибегнути я к ней, Достоин получить я строгое отмщенье; Но мне твоя любовь сулит твое прощенье. Не можешь в варварстве ты мне подобна быть, Не можешь ты меня Офира! не любить, Тебе не свойственна такая перемена; И самая моя злодейская измена, Не может произвесть сей лютости собой,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 249 I recalled that I had killed you with sorrow, That with my infidelity I ended your life which was in full bloom And that even if you could have gone on living, You would certainly prefer to die. In this way I recited all your torments. I felt all my misdeeds. I was seized by a terrible sense of alarm And my beastly heart began to tremble. These odious eyes shed a stream of tears. My pernicious thoughts realized their own vice And conscience struck my breast with repentance. It showed me that my passion was like a monster That placed venom in my heart And tore it to pieces with its power. Already, I tried to return to my duty. I recognized its law, and it enlightened me. It overcame my tyranny. It offered me protection. Like a lantern, it illuminated my every thought. My shameful fervor was extinguished by this light. Ophira! I return to you my full fidelity And have destroyed that destructive passion in my heart. Recognize in me your lover and your friend; Your merciful and faithful husband! Accept my confession! . . Relent! Let my repentance move you to pity! I prevail on you with my lament and my entreaty! I put my hopes in your tenderness. Ophira! You hold it in your soul. I dare turn to it in my sorrow. I deserve harsh vengeance, But your love gives promise of forgiveness. You cannot be barbaric like me. Ophira, you cannot help but love me. Such a transformation is not in your nature And even my heinous infidelity Could not produce such cruelty

250 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Чтоб не был я еще теперь любим тобой. Ты верности ко мне, мой друг! не нарушаешь, И тем сильняй меня в раскаянья ввергаешь. Когдаб неверной я супруге изменил, Не столькоб гнусен я себе и свету был; Но злобная душа то сердце оскорбляет, Которое любовь к Медору сохраняет. Офиру пользу ту собой произвела; Ты сердце зверское к призванью привела, Порок исторгнула и правду вкоренила, Ко долгу, к честности супруга обратила. Воспользуйся, мой друг, победою своей. Ты добродетелью достигла славы сей. Мое терзание теперь ты ей изчисли; Но мне известна днесь душа твоя и мысли. Я ведаю, что ты сестру свою любя, Ея стенанием смутишь сама себя; Злодейства ты ея против себя забудешь, И горести ея одни лишь помнить будешь. Но мысли ты свои мой друг не возмущай, От ней раскаянья в любови ожидай. Конечно действие над ней возьмет природа, И возвратится к ней приятная свобода: Познает гнусну страсть свою сестра твоя. Она раскается, раскаялся как я, И также к дружеству прибегнути потщится, Любовна горесть ей в спокойство пременится; Ты друга прежняго в сестре найдешь себе, Офира! я еще прибегну раз к тебе, Еще признание сердечно повторяю, И клятвою тебе всю нежность утверждаю; Клянусь тебя по смерть ни чем не оскорбить, Клянуся, верностью измену заменить, В супружеской любви, клянусь не лицемерить; Но не отважишься моим ты клятвам верить. Клятвопреступником ужé я в жизни был, Тебе, самим богам, и чести изменил.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 251 That you would no longer love me. My friend, you do not violate your fidelity to me And thus all the more powerfully cause me to repent. If I had betrayed an unfaithful wife, I would not be so repulsive to myself and to society. But ’tis a malicious soul offends the heart That preserves love for Medor. Ophira has done so much good: You led a beastly heart to its true calling. You banished vice and instilled truth. You returned your husband to duty and honor. My friend, savor your victory. You achieved this glory through virtue. Now add my suffering to it. But hence I know your heart and mind. I know that you are troubled by your sister’s moans Because you love her. You will forget her misdeeds against you And remember only her misfortunes. But my friend, do not trouble your thoughts. Await her repentance with love. Surely nature will act upon her And restore her to pleasant freedom. Your sister will acknowledge her heinous passion. She will repent as I repented And she too will seek your friendship; Her amorous sorrow will transform into serenity. In your sister you shall find your former friend. Ophira! Once again I turn to you. Again I repeat my sincere confession And pledge my tenderness with this vow: I vow unto death never to displease you in any way; I vow to be faithful where I have been unfaithful; I vow not to dissemble in our marriage. But you will not dare believe these vows. In my life I have already been a vow-breaker. I betrayed you, honor, and the gods themselves.

252 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Так можешь ли в моих ты клятвах утвердиться; Но ежели душа твоя ко мне смяхчится, И ежель ты мою почувствуешь напасть, Позволь ты мне в свои объятия упасть; Позволь мне путь скорей к тому направить граду, Где я тебя узря, сыщу мою отраду, Я верность принесу супружеску с собой, В раскаянье моем повергнусь пред тобой. Увидишь ты мое терзание сердечно, Узнаешь, что могу тебя любити вечно. Я жизнь мою тебе единной посвящу, К тому старание и мысли обращу, Чтоб щастье дочери, тебе явить бы друга; Она найдет отца, ты вернаго супруга. Спокойство жини вам потщуся возвратить, Обеих буду вас по смерть мою любить. Я вами жить начну, и стану восхищаться; Тем буду лишь одним единым я терзаться, Что я когда нибудь неверен был тебе; Конечно не прощу я дел моих себе. Чем больше от тебя любви имети буду, Тем меньше я мое злодействие забуду. Я в памяти своей вины мои внушу, Офира! я к тебе отправиться спешу. По сем писании дерзну мой путь направить, Готовься участь мне, Офира, предуставить, Великодушие иль строгости яви, Назначь мне смерть сама, иль жизнь возобнови. Ольфена к Мериону***7 Ты мщение свое, отец мой! совершил, В темницу вверг меня, и вольности лишил. Мне тьма всегдашная здесь ужас возвещает, Страх близится ко мне, и мысли возмущает *** Содержание сей ироиды почерпнуто из Российской трагедии, называемой Идамант [author’s footnote].

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 253 So how can my vows assure you? But if your soul relents And if you feel my misfortune, Then permit me to fall into your embrace; Permit me to set out for that city Where I shall find my consolation upon first glimpse of you. I shall bring my marital fidelity with me. I shall repent before you. You will see my true suffering. You will realize that I can love you eternally. I dedicate my life to you alone. I direct my efforts and thoughts toward My daughter’s happiness and toward proving myself your friend. She will find a father, and you a faithful husband. I shall endeavor to return serenity to your life. I shall love you both unto my death. By you both I shall start to live and shall delight in you both. Only one thing will torment me: That I was once unfaithful to you. Of course I shall not forgive myself those deeds. The more love you offer me, The less I shall forget my wickedness. My guilt will be etched into my memory. Ophira! I hasten to you. With this letter I dare set my course. Ophira, prepare to reveal my fate to me: Show mercy or severity. Either appoint my death or renew my life. Ol’phena to Merion†††8 My father,103 you have accomplished your revenge. You cast me into a dungeon and deprived me of liberty. The constant darkness here foretells horror. Fear draws near and disturbs my thoughts. ††† The content of this poem is taken from the Russian tragedy entitled Idamant [author’s footnote].

254 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Оставлена от всех стеню во узах я, Мне собеседует лишь только грусть моя, И страшныя меня мечтанья поражают: Меня оружия и тени окружают. Увы, родитель мой! Но я, забыв себя, Со Идомантом зрю в сражении тебя. Кидаюсь во слезах, на помощь прибегаю, Мечи из ваших рук на землю повергаю: Но зрится мне сражен ужé любовник мой, Он плавает в крови стоная предо мной, И ты, родитель мой, мне грозный взор являешь, Ты раны кажешь мне! Ольфена, что вещаешь? Отбей ты от себя ужасныя мечты, И настоящия гласи напасти ты. На казни я теперь, мой отче, осужденна, За то, что я тобой не варварской рожденна: Что скромность нежности я в жертву принесла, От ярости твоей любовника спасла, И злую смерть его и грех твой упредила, Меня к тому любовь и должность убедила. Ты ядом восхотел невинность изтребить. Могла ли я любовь и правила забыть! Ах нет! лишь смерть его пред очи мне предстала, Ему погибель та известна мною стала. Сама любовь спасла от смерти злой его, Я преступления не крою моего, Но я моей виной дала тебе спокойство, Я дочь твоя, в тебе со мною равно свойство. Когда бы умысл ты жестокой совершил, Спокойных дней себя на век бы ты лишил. Грызенье совести тебя бы в век терзало, И зло сие, тебя злом равным наказало. Враги стараются друг друга изтребить, Но им героями и в бранях должно быть. Тот сердце пламенно и храбый дух являет, Который на войне злодеев изтребляет, А тот, кто в мирны дни лиет невину кровь,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 255 Abandoned by everyone, I groan in my chains. Only my sorrow keeps me company And I am plagued by terrible dreams: I am surrounded by swords and shadows. Alas, my father! But having sacrificed myself, I see you battling with Idomante. I rush about in tears; I run to help. I cast to the ground the sword from your hand. But I can see that my lover has already been slain. He swims in blood, groaning before me. And you, my father, give me a menacing look. You show me the wounds! Ol’phena, what do you proclaim? Drive away those horrible dreams And recount your present misfortunes: My father, I am now condemned to execution Because I was not born to you a barbarian; Because I sacrificed meekness to tenderness. I saved my lover from your fury And warned him about his terrible death and about your sin. Love and duty moved me to this. With your venom you wished to destroy innocence. Could I forget love and principles? Ah, no! As soon as his death appeared before my eyes, I informed him of his ruin. Love itself saved him from a cruel death. I do not conceal my crime, For my transgression gave you peace. I am your daughter; we have the same nature. If you had accomplished this cruel design, You would have deprived yourself of peaceful days forever. Your gnawing conscience would forever have tormented you, And wickedness would have punished you with like wickedness. Enemies try to destroy each other, But in battle they should also act as heroes. He who destroys his enemy during war, Displays an ardent heart and a brave soul. But he who spills innocent blood in peaceful days—

256 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Над кем не действуют ни дружба, ни любовь, Кто славы собственной, не общия алкает, И ближняго в беды коварством вовлекает, Кто рушит целаго отечества покой, Тот варвар и тиран, не воин, не герой. В отечестве своем, мой отче, умяхчайся, Злодеев на полях разя, ожесточайся. Ты сам отечества спокойствие любил, Почто же ныне сам любовь к нему забыл? Священны правила родитель мой имея, Чтил другом некогда своим Идоменея; Идоменей клялся тебе пред олтарем, С тобою другом быть, во Крите быв царем. Он к сердцу твоему от трона преклонился, И вечной дружбою с тобой соединился. Во щастьи протекал тогда твой сладкий век: Но щастие сие, дух зависти пресек. Там дружба нежная горячность потеряет, Где слава чесности законы попирает. Сей вредный смертным враг, коснется где сердцам, Изчезнут правила взаимной клятвы там. Где зависть, дружбы там законы не продлятся. О дружба! ты должналь из сердца изтребляться? И должен ли твой жар священный погасать? Но ах! не всяк из нас умеет дружбу знать. Не правильно ея уставы постигают, Злодеи под ея покровы прибегают: Но тот, кто пламенем сердечым к ней горит, Конечно дружбы тот во век не изтребит. Увы! родитель мой, ты славой заразился, Приобрести ее, на все ты устремился. У нас во Греции сияла тишина, И миром славилась вся Критская страна, Оружия сердец у нас не возмущали, Рассыпанны цветы спокойсто обещали. Какая злость теперь, на Греков брося взгляд, Повсюду веет брань, повсюду мещет яд.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 257 He upon whom neither friendship nor love hold sway, Who is greedy for his own rather than for the common glory And who draws his brother into misfortune by trickery, Who destroys the tranquility of the whole fatherland— He is a barbarian and a tyrant; neither a soldier nor a hero. My father, in our fatherland be gentle; On the battlefield, crushing the enemy, be harsh. You yourself loved peace in the fatherland. Why have you yourself now forgotten that love? My father, upholding sacred principles, You once considered Idomeneo a friend. As King of Crete, Idomeneo Vowed before the altar to be your friend. From his throne, he bowed down to your heart And joined with you in eternal friendship. At that time your sweet days flowed happily. But that happiness was cut short by the specter of envy. Where glory flouts the laws of honesty Tender friendship loses its affection. Where that mortal enemy touches hearts, The precepts of a shared vow are destroyed. Where there is envy the laws of friendship cannot endure. O friendship! Must you be wiped from our hearts? And must your sacred flame be extinguished? But, ah! Not everyone among us can know friendship. Its statutes are not properly understood. Enemies turn to it for cover. But he whose heart burns for it Shall surely never destroy it. Alas! My father, you have been corrupted by glory. You seek to attain it at any cost. Here in Greece tranquility flourished And the whole land of Crete was renowned for peace. Our hearts were not disturbed by instruments of war. Scattered flowers promised peace and calm. And now what fury sows battle everywhere and spreads its venom, Casting its gaze upon the Greeks!

258 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Во всем стремлении мне зрится, воскипела, И бранями возмутить спокойство их велела. Под Трою позвала нещастных Греков брань, Герои понесли к Скамандре жизни в дань, С Идоменеем ты, родитель мой, стремился, И храбостию с ним и дружбой согласился. Ты друга зря в царе, за ним во след летел, С ним лавры приобресть желанием горел. Друзьями вы пришли в пределы гордой Трои, Сражались Гречески с Троянскими герои, И слава громкая вещающа о вас, Пленяла, трогала, и радовала нас; И боги стен от вас ужé не защищали, Цветущий Илион, вы в пепел превращали, Имев геройския и верныя сердца, От дружбы ждали вы, и храбрости венца: Но гордой дух в тебе изменой распалился, В отечество прийти всех прежде ты стремился. Противу дружества осмелился востать, Идоменеев трон стремился похищать. И слава такова тебе мала казалась, Котора не венцем монаршим награждалась. Под лаврами пришед еще ты восхотел, Что бы со скипетром тебя весь Крит узрел. Идоменея ты к числу врагов причислил, Отнять его престол у друга ты помыслил; Идоменея ты оставил во пути, Дабы в отечество ему рабом прийти. Он искренность к тебе усердну сохраняя, И подозрения во дружестве не зная, Не запретил тебе в страну свою спешить; А ты спешил свою неверность совершить. Увы! не другом ты вступил во Критски стены: Но сердцем ты пришел наполненным измены. Противу ты царя народ вооружил, Злодействами себя и страхом окружил,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 259 I see it has flared up in all its zeal And ordered them to disturb the peace with battle. This battle called upon the unfortunate Greeks near Troy. Heroes brought their lives in tribute to Scamander.104 My father, you wished to join Idomeneo And likened yourself to him in bravery and friendship. Seeing a friend in this king, you hastened after him. You burned with a desire to attain laurels with him. You arrived as friends within the limits of proud Troy. The Greek and Trojan heroes waged battle And the resounding glory that announced you Charmed, touched, and gladdened us. And the gods no longer defended the walls from you. You turned flowering Ilium105 to ash. You both possessed heroic and faithful hearts, Thus you both expected friendship would bring with it a wreath of courage.106 But your proud spirit was inflamed by treachery. You sought to arrive in the fatherland before everyone else. You dared rise up against friendship. You sought to steal Idomeneo’s throne. And every glory seemed too little for you If it did not bring with it the monarch’s crown. You arrived adorned in laurels and now wanted All of Crete to see you holding the scepter. You counted Idomeneo among your enemies and Thought to take the throne from your friend. You left Idomeneo along the way, That he might arrive in the fatherland a slave. Preserving his deep sincerity toward you And harboring no suspicions about your friendship, He did not forbid you from hastening to his country. And you hastened to accomplish your betrayal. Alas! Not as a friend did you enter the walls of Crete; Instead you arrived with a heart full of treachery. You armed the people against their king. You surrounded yourself with wicked deeds and fear,

260 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Зловредну мысль сию питающий едину, К Идоменееву поспел прибегнуть сыну. Ты чаял Идомант тебе оставит трон, Против родителя с тобой взбунтует он, И щастью твоему мгновенно покорится: Но в Идоманте кровь и дух геройский зрится. Намеренья твои стараяся пресечь, К отмщенью на тебя острит ужé свой меч. Не может он любить отечества злодеев, Приятны чувства в нем, в нем дух Идоменеев, В нем сердце нежное; но в нем геройска кровь; Почто ты дружество, почто гневил любовь? Со Идомантом мы приятну жизнь вкушали, Мы чувства грубаго, ни мщения не знали. Не думали мы кровь злодеев наших лить, Лишь только думали быть верны и любить. В те самы времена, как ты вооружался, На ратном поле ты полками окружался, Являлась кровь когда Троянска на мечах, И стены окружал Пергамски лютый страх; В те самы времена на нежность мы взирали, К любови мы себя, не к браням приучали. Казалось нам, что весь любви подвластен свет, Что злобы; ни войны во всей вселенной нет; Что верности союз во всех местах хранится; Что славу приобресть любовью Крит весь чтится: Но ах! явил ты нам, явил, родитель мой, Что не всяк нежности покорствует одной. В ужасных видах нам ты брани представляешь, И Идоманта ты быть злобным научаешь. Хоть с прежней нежностью и любит он меня: Но долг к родителю и к Греции храня, Он сердца к ярости и к мщенью обращает, И люту смерть тебе, не скипетр обещает. Ужасен бы тогда мне мой любовник стал, Когда бы он отца от смерти не спасал. Я также, как и он отмщеньем горела,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 261 Nourishing this one pernicious thought: To get to Idomeneo’s son in time. You thought Idomante would leave you the throne; That he would join with you to rebel against his father And instantly submit to your wishes. But in Idomante we find heroic blood and a heroic spirit. Seeking to cut short your plans, He already sharpens his sword for vengeance against you. He cannot love the enemies of his fatherland. He is kind and has Idomeneo’s spirit. A tender heart he has, but heroic blood as well. Why have you angered love and friendship? Idomante and I enjoyed a pleasant life: We knew neither rude feelings nor vengeance. We had no interest in spilling our enemies’ blood. We thought only of loving and being faithful. At the very moment when you were arming yourself— When you stood surrounded by troops on the battlefield, When swords were being stained with Trojan blood, And bitter fear encircled Priam’s walls—107 At that same moment we gazed at our own tender feelings. We had been schooled in love, not battle. We thought the whole world was subject to love, That neither malice nor war existed in the whole world; That faithful unions were preserved everywhere, That all of Crete took pride in attaining glory through love. But, ah! My father, you revealed to us That not everyone submits to tenderness alone. You depicted horrible battle scenes And taught Idomante to be spiteful. He still loves me tenderly as before, But upholding his duty to his father and to Greece, His heart turns toward fury and vengeance And he promises you not the scepter but a cruel death. I would have found my lover terrible at that moment Were he not saving his father from death. Like him, I too burned for vengeance.

262 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Когда бы я твою, мой отче! гибель зрела, Возсталаб на врага, кто рушит твой покой, Хотя бы враг сей был и сам любовник мой: Но ах! родитель мой, тебе осталаось средство, Установить покой и удержати бедство. Оставя злобныя намеренья твои, Прими прошение и жалобы мои! Не тщися ты искать путей неправых к трону, И другу ты оставь державу и корону, Отечеству чрез то спокойство возвратишь, Во Идоманте ты отмщенье потушишь. Я стану возбуждать в нем нежности сердечны, В нем чувства не были поднесь безчеловечны. Сама любовь его смяхчит и укротит, И мирну ветвь тебе его рукой вручит. Когдаже то тебя, родитель мой, не тронет, Что Греция в стыде, что дщерь в оковах стонет, Так щедрости одной просить дерзаю я, Что бы самим тобой пресеклась жизнь моя. Тот яд, который ты готовить не страшился, Чтоб жизни Идомант поспешно им лишился: Сей самый яд теперь мне, Отче, поднеси, И умертвив меня, слез током ороси. За Идоманта жизнь окончить мне прятно; Увы! я за него умреть хочу стократно. Пускай отраву ту на то спасала я, Чтоб жизнь его спасла ужасна смерть моя. Клияда О вы! которые со мной в равной части, Которы терпите любовныя напасти. Я к вам писание и мысли обращу, И вам печаль мою и бедства сообщу; Вам нежныя сердца природа даровала, И вам сама любовь законы подавала. О соучастницы мученья моего!

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 263 My father! If I were to see your ruin, I would rise up against the enemy who destroyed your peace, Though that enemy be my own lover. But, ah! My father, you still have a means To establish peace and hold misfortune at bay. Abandoning your wicked plans, Receive my lament and my entreaty! Do not follow an unrighteous path to the throne And leave your friend his power and his crown. In so doing you will return peace to the fatherland; You will suppress Idomante’s vengeance. I shall begin to awaken his true tenderness. Thus far he has not been ruthless. Love itself will soften and subdue him And extend an olive branch to you by his hand. My father, if you are not moved by the spectacle of Greece standing in shame and your daughter moaning in fetters, Then I dare beg you for this one act of kindness: That you yourself cut short my life! Father, bring me now that same poison Which you fearlessly prepared That you might quickly take Idomante’s life. And having killed me, bathe me in tears. ’Tis pleasant for me to end my life for Idomante. Alas! I wish to die for him a hundred times over. Let me spare him that poison, That my terrible death might spare his life. Kliada O you! Ladies who share my fate! Who endure misfortune in love! I address my thoughts and this letter to you And impart to you my sorrow and woe. Nature granted you tender hearts And love itself gave you its laws. O my partners in torment!

264 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Не отвергайте вы писания сего. Кому удобнее могу открыть печали, Как вам, которыя любовну часть узнали. Отверзется душа пред вами днесь моя, Внимайте, сколько рвусь, грущу, и стражду я. Та нежная любовь, котору каждый знает, Котора смертными всегда повелевает, И разны участи во свете знать дает, Без коей щастия приямаго в жизни нет: Та нежная любовь всю власть на мне явила, Из права общаго меня не изключила, И чувства все мои она воспламеня, С Гиронтом верностью навек спрягла меня. Когда мы нежну страсть друг в друге узнавали, Спокойство приобресть мы ею уповали. Не мыслили тогда преодолеть любви, Взрастала день от дня сильняй она в крови. И верность нежная чем пуще умножалась, Тем наша участь нам прятнее казалась. Различны радости тогда стекались к нам, И не казалися мучении сердцам. Мы в ново бытие как будто пременились, В нас чувства, и сердца, и мысли оживились, Приятности любовь и сладость излила, И душу всем она забавам подала. Прошедши времена те нам казались мертвы, В которы мы любви не возсылали жертвы. Почувствовали мы, что скучен здешней век, Когда не знает действ любовных человек; Что сей священной дар и общее блаженство, Во нравах естества прямое совершенство. Не могут, чаяли мы, те нещастны быть, Умеют с нежностью, которые любить. Но скоро все любовь утехи помрачила, И мыслить нас она иначе научила. Дала она, увы! дала нам ныне знать, Что нежныя сердца удобны пострадать.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 265 Do not reject this letter. To whom better could I reveal my sorrow Than to you, who are familiar with the vicissitudes of love. My soul now opens before you. Hear how I lament, grieve, and suffer. Tender love—which everyone knows, Which forever rules over mortals And offers us various destinies in this world, Without which there is no real happiness in life— That tender love showed me its full power. It did not exempt me from the common rule And, inflaming all my emotions, Forever joined me with Gironte through fidelity. When first we recognized each other’s tender love, We trusted it would bring us serenity. Back then we had no thought of overcoming love. Day by day, it grew stronger in our blood. And the more powerful our tender fidelity, The more pleasant we thought our fate. Various joys gathered around us And did not seem to torment our hearts. ’Twas as though we entered into a new existence. Our feelings, hearts, and thoughts came alive. Love poured forth sweetness and pleasantness And gave our souls over to amusement. Dead to us seemed those earlier times When we did not offer up sacrifices to love. We felt that our time spent here was dull Because nobody knew love’s power; That this sacred gift and common felicity Represented nature’s absolute perfection within us. We believed that nobody capable of tender love Could be unhappy. But soon love dulled all our pleasures And taught us to think differently. Alas! She now let us know That tender hearts are well suited to suffering.

266 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Умеренности страсть любовная не знаешь! Иль радости даешь; иль грустью убиваешь! Ты жизнь сладчайшую, ты щастье сулишь, И жизнью наконец скучати нам велишь. Когда я прав твоих во сердце не вмещала, Я жизнь и смерть тогда за равное считала. Но как приятности твои познала я, Мне стала дорогá и жизнь тогда моя. А ныне, как тобой напасть претерпеваю, Я жизни саму смерть свою предпочитаю. О вы! которым я мою вверяю часть, Познайте кем моя соделалась напасть. Увы! родитель мой поверг меня в мученье; Он чувствовать мне дал тоску и огорченье; Он власть родительску во зло употребил, Свободы он меня и щастия лишил. Навек меня, навек с Гиронтом разлучает, Другому он меня; а не ему вручает. Отчаянье мое, ни рвенье, ни стон, Не внятны для него; ах! мой губитель он, Фортуна мысль его и душу ослепила, С сокровищем к нему и с лестью приступила. Он ей покорствует, во храм ея идет, Меня, нещастную на жертву к ней ведет. Искать себе утех сей жертвой не страшится, Не мирт, но кипарис на олтаре мне зрится. Лежат передо мной кровавые следы, О пышность! се твои зловредные плоды! Ты строишь гибели, ты смертных омрачаешь, И человечество забыти научаешь. Сердечной наш покой и наша нежна страсть, Страдают там, где ты свою являешь власть. Вы зрите то, увы! любовницы несчастны, Что наши участи сим следствиям подвластны. Однако льстилась я напасти облехчить, Хотела моего родителя смяхчить. Я средство лучшее к тому изобретала,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 267 Love’s passion, you know no moderation! You either offer joy or kill with sorrow. Happiness and a sweet life you promise, Yet in the end you make us weary of life. Before my heart upheld your laws, I looked upon life and death equally. But when I became acquainted with your pleasantness My life became dear to me. Yet now that you make me suffer misfortune, I prefer my own death to life. O you to whom I confide my destiny! Learn who caused my misfortune. Alas! My father plunged me into torment. He caused me anguish and distress. He used his parental power for evil. He took away both my freedom and my happiness. He forever separates me from Gironte. He entrusts me not to him but to another. He hears neither my despair, my delirium, nor my moans. Ah! He is my ruiner. Fortune has blinded his thoughts and soul. She approached him with treasure and flattery. He submits to her and enters her temple. He leads me, poor girl, in sacrifice to her. He has no fear of seeking his own pleasure with this sacrifice. Upon the altar I see not myrtle but cypress.108 Before me lie traces of blood. O splendor! Here are your pernicious fruits! You bring everything to ruin. You dishearten us and teach us to forget our own humanity. Wheresoever you display your power, There our true peace and tender passion suffer. Alas! You maidens! Unhappy lovers! You see that our fate is subject to such ordeals. But I fooled myself that I could ease my misfortune. I wished to make my father relent. I searched for the best way

268 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Как другу моему открыться я дерзала. Мне сей дала совет отчаянность моя, К стопам родительским поверглась в плаче я, И руки я его потоком слез омыла, Я страсть мою ему к Гиронту объявила, Открыла, что я жить во щастье не могу, Коль части с ним моей навек не сопрягу; Что сердца моего уже взята свобода: Я мнила, что над ним подействует природа, И жалость нежную она ему внушит; Я думала, что он суровость уменьшит; Но строгости смяхчить природа не умела, Я больше и рыдать пред ним ужé не смела. Он в ярости своей мне строго подтвердил, Что он меня с другим заочно обручил, Что я должна сих мест поспешно удалиться, И в путь желанной им для брака устремиться. Назначил он ужé сей пагубной отъезд: Чрез три дни повелел от здешних скрыться мест. И брака моего сам хочет быть свидетель. Когдаб я меньше чла священну добродетель; Яб власть родительску, и долг пренебрегла, С Гиронтом жизнь мою сокрывшись бы спрягла. Но правил я таких позорных ужасаюсь, Я в сердце страсть храню; но долгу покоряюсь. Отраду в горестях имею только ту, Что должность я мою, равно с любовью чту, И добродетели устава что не рушу. Терзайте горести, вы грудь мою и душу! Обремененная мученьем и тоской, Я смерти не страшась, мой век скончаю злой. Гиронт равно со мной крушится и страдает, Он щастье свое в Клияде почитает. Ко мне все чувствия, и мысли обратил, Я так мила ему, как сильно он мне мил. Не станет без меня он жизнью наслаждаться, Отчаянью начнет и бедствам предаваться,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 269 To dare confide in my friend. My despair advised me To throw myself in lament at my father’s feet And bathe his hands with a stream of tears. I declared my passion for Gironte. I revealed that I could not live happily Unless I joined my destiny with his for eternity; That my heart had already been claimed. I thought that nature would act upon him And arouse tender pity. I thought he would relax his severity. But nature proved unable to soften his sternness. I dared not weep before him any longer. In his fury, he sternly maintained That he had, in my absence, betrothed me to another And that I must soon leave this place And set off for my wedding as he desired. He had already arranged this fatal departure: He ordered that I leave this place in three days. And he himself wants to witness my marriage. If I honored sacred virtue less, I would have scorned duty and parental authority. Stealing away, I would have joined my life with Gironte’s. But I am terrified of such shameful principles. I preserve passion in my heart, but I submit to duty. Amidst my sorrows I have but one joy: That I honor my duty on a par with my love And do not destroy the statutes of virtue. Misfortunes! Tear at my breast and at my soul! Burdened by torments and anguish, Not fearing death, I am ending my cruel days. Gironte grieves and suffers as much as I; His happiness lies in Kliada. He directs all his feelings and thoughts toward me. I am as dear to him as he to me. Without me he will no longer enjoy life; He will now submit to despair and misfortune

270 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И может быть свой век печалью сократит, Сия ужасна мысль весь дух во мне мутит! Пускай бы он свою Клияду забывая, Искал других утех, другой любовью тая. Я лучше зреть хочу изменником ево, Чем мной лишеннаго спокойства своего. Но тщетно тем себя несчастна уверяю, Я чувствия его своими измеряю; И знаю, что не льзя ему неверну быть, Подобно мне ему не можно изменить. На то мы в страсть вошли, что бы любить друг друга. Ах! в горесть ввергну я назначенна супруга. Он будет может быть любовь ко мне иметь, И сей взаимности во мне не станет зреть. Страдание мое он будет зреть всечасно, Сразит его, сразит раскаянье ужасно. Познает скоро он терзанием моим, Что я по должности во брак вступила с ним. Возможноль, чтоб его та участь веселила, Которая меня в оковы заключила: И принуждением в союзы с ним ввела, Не будет наша жизнь обеим нам мила. Отцы и матери! детей не огорчайте! Вы жизнь им даровав, ту жизнь не отяхчайте; Не превращайте вы свою в тиранство власть, Не запрещайте им избрать по воле часть И знайте, что для них богатство, пышность, слава, Не есть спокойствие: но есть сердцам отрава, Не соплетайте вы златаго им венца: Пускай цветы одни прельщают их сердца. А вы! сраженные любовною тоскою. Стените обо мне! взрыдайте вы со мною! И чувствы страстныя ко жалости склоня, Скорбящу, страждущу, представьте вы меня! В отчаянье, в тоске, и в плаче погруженну; А что всего тяжчай, с Гиронтом разлученну! Свершается со мной ужасна часть моя,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 271 And his life may be cut short by sorrow. This terrible thought disturbs my whole spirit! Forgetting his Kliada, let him seek other pleasures, Melting with love for another. I would rather see him unfaithful Than deprived of his tranquility by me. But in vain do I, poor girl, assure myself this way. I measure his feelings against my own And know that he cannot be unfaithful, Just as I am unable to betray him. We submitted to passion that we might love each other. Ah! I shall plunge my intended husband into sorrow. Perhaps he will love me And not find reciprocity. He will constantly behold my suffering And be struck by terrible remorse. My torments will make him realize That I married him out of duty. Can he possibly be pleased by a fate Which has bound me in fetters And forced me into a union with him? Neither of us will be pleased by this life. Fathers and mothers! Do not upset your children! You granted them life—do not then burden that life. Do not turn your authority into tyranny. Do not forbid them to choose their fate according to their own will. And know that for them wealth, splendor, and glory Do not bring tranquility but instead poison their hearts. Do not weave them wreathes of gold. Let flowers alone captivate their hearts. And you! Those struck down by anguish in love; Lament me! Weep together with me! And inclining your passionate feelings toward pity, Think of me bereaved and suffering; Mired in despair, in anguish, and in tears; And most burdensome of all, separated from Gironte! My horrible destiny has come to pass.

272 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Лишаюся ужé на век Гиронта я! От мест, где он живет, во мрачность удаляюсь, Во гроб несчастная от сюда преселяюсь. Там горести меня, и бедствы тамо ждут; Они мне смертной яд поспешно подадут. Клияда в смерти лишь отраду почитает, Она умреть спешит, но должность исполняет. О должность! я воздам приличну дань тебе! И буду я потом властна сама в себе, Повиновением закон твой увенчаю: Но увенчав его, свободно жизнь скончаю. Коль счастливой себя не льзя с Гиронтом зреть, На все отважусь я! отважусь умереть. Весна Обновился вид Природы, Вид весенней красоты: Зажурчали быстры воды, Расцвели луга, цветы; Нежны бабочки летают, На полях стада лежат, В рощах птички воспевают, Ветерки прохладу мчат. Все воскресло, упоилось Животворною росой; В лучший вид переродилось, Было мертво что зимой. Протекли безсчетны веки, А Природы тот же вид: Теж цветочки, травки, реки; Тоже солнце их живит! Я Природой восхищаюсь; Мой пленяет взор она; Но к себе я обращаюсь: Где ты, где, моя весна?

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 273 I have been deprived of Gironte forever! Headed for darkness, I leave this place where he resides. Poor girl, from here I settle into my grave. There sorrows and misfortunes await me. They will quickly administer the fatal poison. In death Kliada sees only joy. She hastens to die, but fulfills her duty. O duty! To you I shall pay proper tribute! And then I shall be within my own power. I crown your law with obedience; But having crowned it, I shall freely end my life. If ’tis impossible to be happy with Gironte, Then I dare everything! I dare to die! Spring109 Nature’s look has been restored; The look of spring beauty. Rapid waters have begun to burble. Meadows and flowers have blossomed. Delicate butterflies flutter. Herds are in the fields. Little birds lift their voices in song in the groves. Light winds chase the cool air. Everything has been resurrected And has drunk of life-giving dew. That which was dead in winter Has been reborn to its best look. Uncountable centuries have passed by, Yet Nature looks the same: The same little flowers, grasses, rivers; The same sun animates them! I delight in Nature. She captivates my gaze. But now I treat of myself: Where are you my spring?

274 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Где вы прежния утехи, Что к себе меня влекли? Где забавы, игры, смехи? Вы исчезли, утекли! Осень мрачная настала; Вслед за ней зима течет… Безвозвратно я увяла; Смерть меня у гроба ждет. Но по смерти обновиться Надлежит душе моей; Там весна возобновится, Там моих безсмертных дней. О Природа! обновленье И порядок видя твой, Я склонила размышленье На безсмертный жребий мой: Сколь величествен и важен Он мне кажется в сей час! Но не будь, мой дух, отважен; Удержись! … прерви свой глас! —1796 Чувство дружбы В рощах здешних воспевает На кусточке соловей; Он мне, слышится, вещает: “Нет здесь, нет твоих друзей!” Травка, былие, цветочик, Желты клаcсы, вид полей, Всякой мне твердит листочик: “Нет здесь, нет твоих друзей!” Под крутыми берегами Томно зажурчал ручей;

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 275 Where are you former pleasures That drew me in? Where are amusements, games, and laughter? You have vanished … passed by! Gloomy autumn has arrived. Winter comes after it … I have withered irrevocably; Death awaits me by the grave. But surely in death My soul will be revived. There the spring of my eternal days Will be restored. O Nature! Seeing your renewal And your order I have turned my thoughts Toward my immortal fate. So majestic and weighty It seems to me at this hour! But my spirit, be not bold! Refrain! … Cut short your voice! —1796 Friendship110 Here in the groves a nightingale Sings upon a little bush. It seems he proclaims to me: “Not here, they’re not here, your friends.”111 The grass, plants, and little flower, The yellow ears, the look of the fields, Every little leaf repeats to me: “Not here, they’re not here, your friends.” Beneath the steep banks The brook begins to burble.

276 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Слышу глас между струями: “Нет здесь, нет твоих друзей!” На поля зефиры мчатся, И опять летят с полей; Шумом их слова твердятся: “Нет здесь, нет твоих друзей!” Пастухи бегут ко стаду, Всяк с подружкою своей; Мне твердят, резвясь, в досаду: “Нет с тобой твоих друзей!” Нет их, нет со мной, конечно; Нет забав душе моей; Я мучение сердечно Без моих терплю друзей. В дружбе сладость заключенна, Вся отрада жизни в ней; В сердце радость умерщвленна, Все противно без друзей! Я без вас, друзья любезны, Лишена утехи всей! Лейтись, лейтись, токи слезны! Нет со мной моих друзей! —1796 Ручей Я в жаркий день сидела У чистого ручья; Свой образ в нем узрела, И так вещала я: “Ручей! в тебе зрю живо “Я все мои черты.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 277 I hear a voice amidst the currents: “Not here, they’re not here, your friends.” The zephyrs race to the fields And again from the fields they fly. In their rustling the words are repeated: “Not here, they’re not here, your friends.” Shepherds run to their flocks, Each with his sweetheart. Frolicking, they repeat to me in vexation: “They’re not here with you, your friends.” They’re not here, of course, not with me. There are no amusements for my soul. I endure true torment Without my friends. Friendship contains pleasantness within it; Life’s true gladness. Joy is subdued in my heart. Nothing is as it should be without my friends! Dear friends, without you I am deprived of all pleasure! Flow, streams of tears, flow! They’re not here with me, my friends! —1796 The Brook112 On a hot day I sat By a pure brook. I spied my reflection in it And proclaimed, “Brook! In you I vividly behold All my features.

278 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova “Сколь кажешь справедливо “Наружной образ ты, “И им заняться нудишь! “Но, ах! почто, ручей, “Почто не обнаружишь “В струях души моей? “Открой ты сердце, мысли; “Зерцалом будь души; “Пороки в ней исчисли; “Их живо напиши!” Те речи беспристрастны Язык лишь произнес, Взмутились токи ясны, И образ мой исчез; Стихии взбунтовали, Источник почернел; Наяды восплескали, И ветер заревел; Волна волну колеблет И пенится крутясь; Мой слух со шумом внемлет Наяды грозной глас: “Ты тайну сокровенну “Желаешь разуметь, “И душу обнаженну “И сердце хочешь зреть? “Зри действие Природы, “И мрак с очей сложи. “Открыли тайну воды— “Ты тайну развяжи.” Наяда так вещала, И скрылась в бездну вод; Вода шуметь престала, Стал чист небесной свод И буря укротилась; Прозрачен стал ручей; Я духом возмутилась,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 279 How justly you show External appearance And force one to study it! But, why, O brook! Why will you not display My soul in your currents? Reveal my heart and thoughts; Be the mirror of my soul; Recite my vices; Describe them vividly!” I had only just pronounced These judicious words When the clear currents clouded over And my reflection vanished. The elements rebelled, The spring grew black. The naiads113 splashed, The wind began to howl. Wave broke upon wave And frothed, whirling. In this din my ear harkened The naiad’s stern voice: “You wish to comprehend The secret treasure? And wish to see your heart And soul laid bare? Behold Nature’s work. And let darkness fall from your eyes. The waters have revealed their secret— ’Tis for you to unravel it.” The naiad thus proclaimed And vanished into the watery abyss. The water ceased to stir. The vault of heaven cleared And the storm calmed. The brook became transparent. My soul clouded over,

280 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Не зная тайны сей. Но я имев сводбоду Из тока воду пить, Вкусила чисту воду, Чтоб мысли просветить— И таинство познала Волшебнаго ручья. Вода знаменовала, Что страсти рвут меня; Что как пришел в движенье Прозрачной водной ток, Так сердце, дух в волненье Приводит мой порок. Ах! силу ощутила Я всех моих страстей; В душе что гордость крыла, Открыл мне то ручей. Но сердце как исправить? Чем слабости тушить? К ручью свой путь направить И чисту воду пить. Коль каплю хоть едину Воды живой вкушу, Я все, иль половину Пороков погашу. —1796 От сочинительницы “Ручья” ответ на ответ Рабом себя считаешь Ты сам своих страстей; На что же знать желаешь, Волшебный где ручей? Коль ты свое падение Познал коль сам себя, Ручей свое теченье Имеет внутрь тебя.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 281 Not knowing the secret. But at liberty To drink from the current, I tasted the pure water, So that my thoughts might be enlightened— And I grasped the secret Of the enchanted brook. The water signified That passions tear me apart; That just as the transparent water’s current Had been set in motion, So too does vice agitate My heart and spirit. O! I sensed the force Of all my passions. The brook revealed to me That which pride concealed in my soul. But how to correct the heart? By what means extinguish weakness? Turn your path toward the brook And drink the pure water. If I taste even one drop Of this living water, I shall extinguish At least half my vices. —1796 From the Authoress of “The Brook”: A Response to a Response114 You consider yourself a slave To your passions. Why do you wish to know Where the enchanted brook lies? If you have understood yourself as much As you understood your fall from grace, Then the brook Flows within you.

282 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Он гордость потопляя, Порок твой обнажит, И чувства орошая, В них страсти укротит. Себя кто судит строго, Свой чувствует порок, Тому легка дорога Сыскать волшебный ток;— И часть его блаженна! К погибели моей, Собой я ослепленна, Не зрю своих страстей. Жилище к музам зная, Я с лирой шла к ручью; И вымыслы сплетая, Там пела песнь мою. Мне вод Кастальских сила На пользу не дана, Вкусить их побудила Забава лишь одна. Внутри себя водою Душа не упилась; Она покрыта тьмою Среди мирских зараз,— Не может обновиться. Но ежель мой ручей Тебе полезным зрится, Дал действо зреть страстей: Хвалу и жертву Музам Я в сердце воздаю; Их пользуюсь союзом, Ходила я к ручью. Увы! Но не вкусила Воды внутри себя: Чтож пользы, что гласила Я, мой ручей, тебя? —1799

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 283 Drowning pride, it Exposes your vice And bathing your senses, Subdues their passions. Those who judge themselves severely Sense their own vice. For them the road To the enchanted current is easy to find— And blessed is their lot! I have blinded myself To my own demise. I do not see my own passions. Knowing the Muses’ abode, I was walking with my lyre to the brook And, weaving my imaginings, I sang my song there. The power of the Castalian115 waters Has not helped me. Mere amusement prompted me To taste them. My soul did not deeply imbibe The water. Amidst earthly charms My soul is covered in darkness. It cannot be restored. But if my brook Seems useful to you— If it allowed you to discern the play of passions— Then my heart offers Praise and sacrifice to the Muses. Enjoying their company, I used to go to the brook. Alas! But I did not taste The water within me: I said, “What use Are you, my brook?” —1799

284 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Уединенные часы О часы уединенья! Не спешите протекать; Сила вашего теченья Сладость мне дает вкушать. От сует я удалилась, Тишиною оградилась, В сердце чувствую покой. Музы, зря мою свободу, Пить велят Кастальску воду, И беседуют со мной. Чувство, сердце, вображенье Музы! к вам обращено, И мое уединенье Вами днесь оживлено. Мной забвенны пышность, слава; Мира целаго забава Тщетность мне одну явит; К ним душа не пригвожденна; Ими мысль не зараженна; Блеск их сердца не пленит. Долго я утех искала Среди сладостей мирских; Но, увы! не обретала, А теряла только их, И сама узрела ясно, Что искала лишь напрасно, Их искала там, где нет! Наконец все скучно стало; Сердце мне мое сказало, Где спокойствие живет. К жизни тихой, безмятежной Указало сердце путь,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 285 Solitary Hours116 O solitary hours! Do not hasten along. The power of your current Permits me to taste sweetness. I have withdrawn from vanities And surrounded myself with silence. I feel peace in my heart. The Muses, seeing my freedom, Bid me drink the Castalian117 water And they converse with me. Muses! My feelings, heart, and imagination Are turned toward you. And at present you have brightened My solitude. I have forgotten splendor and glory. All the world’s amusements Show me only vanity. My soul is not attached to them. My thoughts are not infected by them. Their brilliance does not captivate my heart. Long did I seek consolation Amidst earthly delights. But, alas! I did not attain them; I merely lost them. And I perceived clearly That I only sought in vain. I sought them where they were not! At last everything became dull. My heart told me Where serenity resided. My heart showed me the path To a quiet untroubled life,

286 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И велело в дружбе нежной Мне спокойство почерпнуть. Гласу сердца я внимаю; Жизни сладость заключаю В дружестве и в тишине— И со мной коль чисты Музы Утвердят свои союзы, Жизнь утехой будет мне. —1796 Степная песнь Стихи мои! помчитесь Ко Невским берегам; У них остановитесь; Сыщите остров там. Обширною Невою Тот остров окружен; Он рощей, как стеною, От бурей огражден. В сем острове Помона Себе воздвигла трон; Держась наук закона, Слывет врачебным он. Три милыя пастушк臇‡9 В сем острове живут, И с ними их подружки Деля забавы тут. В вечерний час гуляют Пастушки вкруг реки, И плящут и играют, Из роз плетут венки. Резвясь, оне бросают К Наядам свой венок; Веночки преплывают Чрез весь обширный ток. ‡‡‡ В… . К… М… . [author’s footnote].

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 287 And bid me draw Serenity from tender friendship. I harken the voice of my heart. I find life’s delights In friendship and in silence. And as long as the pure Muses Pledge their communion with me, Life for me will be a pleasure. —1796 Song of the Steppe118 My verses! Hasten to the banks of the Neva.119 Stop beside them; Look for an island there. That island is surrounded By the vast Neva. It is protected from storms By a grove, as by a wall. On that island Pomona120 Has erected her throne. In accordance with the laws of learning, It is said to be healing.121 Three122 sweet shepherdesses§§§10 Reside on that island And their maiden friends Share their amusements. In the evening hours the shepherdesses Stroll by the river And dance and play and Weave wreathes of roses. Frolicking, they toss Their wreath to the naiads. The little wreathes float Across the whole vast current. §§§ V… K… M… [author’s footnote].

288 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Наяды сладкогласны Им голос подают; Оне сквозь токи ясны К забавам их зовут. Пастушки для прохлады Полощутся в водах; Игривыя Наяды На них наводят страх; Усилят вод стремленье, Речной поток взмутят, И вдруг реки волненье Резвяся усмирят. Пастушки веселятся. Но ах! приходит час С Наядами прощаться, Терять поток из глаз; Невинныя утехи Скрывает темна ночь; Уснули игры, смехи— Идут пастушки прочь. Стихи мои! парите И вы пастушкам в сдед; Унывно возгласите, Что мне забав здесь нет. Скажите, как уныла Природа в сих местах; Краса ея и сила Мертва, мертва в лугах; Цветов не видно в поле, Прохладных теней нет; Пастушка, здесь по воле Играя не поет, Зефиры не летают, Потоки не журчат, И птички не порхают, Листочки не шумят. В такой-то обитаю

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 289 The sweet-voiced naiads Lend them their voices. Across the clear currents They beckon them to amusements. The shepherdesses splash in the waters To keep cool. The playful naiads Frighten them. They strengthen the water’s surge; They cloud the river’s current And, frolicking, they suddenly subdue The river’s agitation. The shepherdesses make merry. But, O! The hour approaches When they must bid farewell to the naiads. They must dry the water from their eyes. Dark night covers Innocent delights. Games and laughter have gone to sleep— The shepherdesses walk away. My verses! You too, Follow the shepherdesses! Sadly proclaim That there are no amusements for me here! Tell how dreary is Nature in these parts. Her beauty and power are dead, Dead in the meadows. No flowers can be seen in the fields. There are no cool patches of shade. The shepherdess here does not play Or sing as she wishes. Zephyrs do not fly. Streams do not babble And birds do not perch. The leaves do not rustle. I now reside

290 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Я скучной стороне; Везде тоску встречаю, И все постыло мне. Но ах! пускай в мученье Веду я дни свои, Вкушали б утешенье Пастушки лишь мои. Пускай забава, радость Вокруг летают их; Моя забава, сладость, Моя утеха в них. О милыя пастушки! Степную песнь мою Прочтите друг для дружки; Для вас ее пою. —1798/99 К Анне Алекс. Турчаниновой Ты учишь презирать тщету мирских сует, Ты учишь в Боге жить, и смерти не страшиться. На твой благой совет хощу, хощу решиться, Но веры и любви в душе не достает: Ты трудной путь себе по воле избрала, И мира прелости, и чувства победила. В пределы вечности ты дух свой обратила И в жизни временной блаженства не нашла. Завидна твердость мне, завидна мне твоя, Живыя веры свет в душе твоей пылает. Увы! В моей душе светильник погасает; Меня зовущему не внемлю гласу я. Обманчивость мирских я ведаю утех, Я вечность признаю, сей жизни краткость знаю,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 291 In such a dull place. I encounter melancholy everywhere And all has gone cold for me. But, O! Let me pass my days In torment If only my shepherdesses Might taste delight. Let amusement and joy Fly all around them. My amusement, my pleasure, and My delight are in them. O sweet shepherdesses! Read to one another My song of the steppe. ’Tis for you I sing it. —1798/1799 To Anna Aleks. Turchaninova123 You teach us to despise the vanity of worldly cares. You teach us to live in God and not fear death. I wish to resolve on your sound counsel But have not enough faith or love in my soul: You willingly chose for yourself a difficult path And conquered feelings and earthly charms. You turned your spirit toward the eternal realm And have not found bliss in this impermanent life. I envy your resolve, I envy it. The light of living faith burns in your soul. Alas! The light in my soul fades; I heed not the voice of the one who calls me. I know the deceptiveness of earthly consolations. I acknowledge eternity; I know the brevity of this life.

292 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova Но ложным блеском дух и сердце заражаю И временность берет над вечностию верх. Колико разнствует твоя с моею часть! Моя здесь бедственна, твоя блаженна доля. От мрака в свет прейти твоя стремится воля, Моя от света в мрак влечет меня ниспасть. Погибели своей сама виновата я; Мне промысл показал к добру и к злу дорогу: Одна ведет во ад, ведет другая к Богу; Из двух одну избрать властна душа моя. Но я на путь прямой стремиться не могла, Душа вкусила ад и очи ослепились, И мысль и чувствия тщетно заразились, Под бременем страстей, к погибели пришла. О ты, безсмертия венца котора ждешь И мира суету на лире воспеваешь, Пределы вечности и Бога прославляешь, Ничтожность жизни сей почувствовать даешь! Ты мирных песней петь во век не преставай, И трогая сердца, вливай благоговенье! Почувствовать заставь тщету и заблужденье, Как истины на путь чрез тени провождай. Мой семидесятый год Сколь быстр и тороплив сей тленной жизни ход? Я цену времени едва познать успела, И вечности предел едва уразумела, Приближился ко мне мой семьдесятый год. Как вихри бурные мутят потоки вод, Так дни прошедшие страстями возмущались,

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 293 My heart and soul are captivated by a false light And impermanence gets the better of eternity. How greatly our two fates differ! My lot here is unfortunate, yours is blessed. Your will strives to leave darkness toward light; Mine leads me to fall from light into darkness. I am to blame for my own ruin. Providence showed me the path to good and to bad: One leads to Hell; the other leads to God; Of the two my soul is empowered to choose one. But I could not stay on the straight path. My soul tasted Hell and my eyes were blinded And vainly my thoughts and feelings were captivated. Under the weight of passions I arrived at my ruin. O you who await the crown of immortality And on your lyre sing of earthly trifles. You praise God and the eternal realm. You make us feel the insignificance of this life! Never stop singing worldly songs And, touching our hearts, instill reverence! Make us sense vanity and delusion, As you accompany us along the path from darkness. My Seventieth Year124 How quickly and hastily does this ephemeral life pass? Hardly had I managed to understand the value of time And hardly comprehended the eternal realm, When I saw approaching my seventieth year. As stormy whirlwinds cloud the water So passions disturbed my bygone days

294 Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova И чувствия мои к земному пригвождались. Застиг меня в тщетах мой семьдесятый год. О сколь ужасен был ко мне его приход! Мной в жизни правила моя развратна воля, Погибшая моя скрывалась в ней доля; Мне тайну ту открыл мой семьдесятый год. Из мира здешняго мой кажет он исход Увы! Погибла я … но ты, любовь священна, За грешных ты сама явилась воплощенна, Очисти, убели мой семьдесятый год. Из сердца грешнаго изми злотворный плод И брось в него сама твоей святыни сема. Живыя семена в свое созреют время, Увлажь их и пожни в мой семьдесятый год. Тобою обновлен весь падший смертных род В тебе духовное сокрыто возрожденье; Из ветхаго творишь ты новое творенье. Да буду нова тварь в мой семьдесятый год. Яви на мне любовь, обилие щедрот; Ах! Поздно я свою погибель ощутила; Но всех грехов сильней, твоей любви сила: Не страшен с нею мне и семьдесятый год. 1816 года Февраля 13 числа

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova 295 And my feelings were fixed to earthly things— Amidst these vanities it caught me unawares, my seventieth year. O how terrified I was by its approach! My perverted will ruled my life. And within it my ruined lot lay hidden; This mystery was revealed to me by my seventieth year. It reveals my departure125 from this world. Alas! I am ruined … but you, sacred love, You yourself were made incarnate for us sinners. Purify, whiten126 my seventieth year. Remove the pernicious fruit from my sinful breast And sew therein the seeds of your sacred place. In time those living seeds will ripen. Water and reap them in my seventieth year. The whole fallen human race has been renewed through you. You conceal spiritual rebirth within you. From the decrepit127 you create new creation. May I be a new creature in my seventieth year. Show me your love, your overflowing generosity. Ah! Too late did I sense my ruin. But your love is stronger than all sins: With your love I do not fear my seventieth year. —February 13, 1816

Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova (1752–1803) Introduction Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova stands alongside Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova as one of the most prolific and respected Russian women writers of her day. Relative to the other poets in this volume, Sushkova (née Khrapovitskaia) has garnered quite a bit of scholarly attention.1 She was born into an ancient noble family in Ukraine. Like many women of her generation and social class, she spoke French at home, learning Russian only later, as part of her formal studies, along with German, Italian, and English.2 Sushkova was close to her older brother, Aleksandr Vasil’evich Khrapovitskii (1749–1801), a writer who assumed the powerful post of state secretary to Catherine II in 1783 and who probably facilitated his sister’s entry into belles lettres. Her younger brother, Mikhail Vasil’evich Khrapovitskii (1758–1819), was also a man of letters, but preferred the solitude of his estate to the social whirl of court and society in the capitals.3 In keeping with the close-knit personal connections that characterized eighteenthcentury Russia’s emerging literary culture, Sushkova became a protégée of Catherine II, having been brought to the empress’s attention in 1772 by her brother’s colleague, Count Kirill Razumovskii. She was invited to court around that same time and married Vasilii Mikhailovich Sushkov (1746–1819). Most of her life was linked not 1. Sushkova appears in all the dictionaries and catalogues on Russian women writers, from Novikov’s 1772 Dictionary to the most recent anthologies: Novikov, Opyt istoricheskago slovaria, 233; Russov, Bibliograficheskii katalog, 41–42; Makarov, “Mariia Vasil’evna Sushkova,” 145–46; Golitsyn, Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 164–67; Ledkovsky, Dictionary of Russian Women Writers, 628–29; Gheith and Barker, History of Women’s Writing in Russia, 355; and Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Sushkova, Mariia Vasil’evna,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=10377. Rosslyn offers by far the most detailed examination of Sushkova’s life and works in “Mar’ya Vasil’evna Sushkova.” For more about Sushkova’s influential brother, see Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Khrapovitskii, Aleksander Vasil’evich,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=10381. 2. Rosslyn, “Mar’ya Vasil’evna Sushkova,” 87. 3. See Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Khrapovitskii, Mikhail Vasil’evich,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=10381.

297

298 Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova with St. Petersburg, but with Moscow. It was there that, together with other well-connected contemporaries, she frequented the literary gatherings of Mikhail Kheraskov and his wife, the poet Elizaveta Kheraskova (whose work appears in this volume). Sushkova had at least five children, including two sons who also became writers.4 The literary culture of her family carried on well after her death with her granddaughter, Countess Evodokia Petrovna Rostopchina (1811–58), who became one of the best-known Russian women writers of the nineteenth century. Sushkova started publishing at the age of seventeen. Under the patronage of N. I. Novikov, she began with satire, which was a rather unusual choice for women at the time. Specifically, between 1769 and 1772 she composed a series of satirical “portraits” for Novikov’s journal Drone (Truten’).5 By the time she was twenty Novikov already praised her in his Dictionary: A maiden of sharp and enlightened mind and gifted with a great diligence for learning. She is very skillful in French and German as well as in Russian poetry. She has composed various poems, including elegies, epistles, etc., as well as having translated from foreign languages in verse and prose pieces. Her verse is pure, her style pleasing, tender, firm, and adorned more by reason than by rich rhymes.6 That predilection for “reason,” which he detects at this early stage of her career, reflects the central place of Enlightenment ideals in Sushkova’s oeuvre. With the exception of the empress Catherine II 4. Writer and translator Mikhail Vasil’evich Sushkov (Rosslyn recounts his suicide in “Mar’ya Vasil’evna Sushkova,” 105–6) and Nikolai Vasil’evich Sushkov. 5. Rosslyn (“Mar’ya Vasil’evna Sushkova,” 88) notes that Sushkova’s satirical essays appeared at a time when “satire was not thought appropriate to women’s nature and was not common in eighteenth-century women’s writing.” For a discussion of these “portraits,” see ibid., 88– 91. Rosslyn also analyzes Sushkova’s satirical essays, which appeared in Novikov’s journals Drone (Truten’) in 1769, 1770, and 1772 and Painter (Zhivopisets) in 1770 (ibid., 88–91). 6. Novikov, Opyt istoricheskago slovaria, 233. Novikov refers to Sushkova by her maiden name, Khrapovitskaia.

Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova 299 and her friend Princess Dashkova, Sushkova was the most active female propagator of Enlightenment values in Russia.7 Still, her active career as a translator suggests eclectic tastes. She published numerous works from English, Italian, and French and also translated from Russian. Indeed, Sushkova is credited with establishing Kheraskov’s reputation abroad with her translation into French of The Battle of Chesma.8 Her Russian translations included excerpts of everything from John Milton’s Paradise Lost to Joseph Addison’s Republican tragedy, Cato, and the idylls of Mme Deshoulières. Sushkova even showed a taste for the emerging fashion for melancholy with her excerpt of Edward Young’s Night Thoughts.9 Sushkova’s continued attachment to Enlightenment ideals is confirmed by her Russian rendering of JeanFrançois Marmontel’s 1777 novel, The Incas, or The Destruction of the Empire of Peru (Les Incas, ou La destruction de l’empire de Pérou); a translation highly praised by her contemporaries. Translation certainly granted Sushkova a comfortable entry into the world of Russian letters, but she did briefly return to original poetry with the two pieces presented in this volume: “A Chinaman’s Letter to the Tatar Murza Residing in Petersburg on Business” (Pis’mo Kitaitsa k tatarskomu murze, zhivushchemu po delam svoim v Peterburge) and “Stanzas on the Founding of the Russian Academy” (Stansy na uchrezhdenie Rossiiskoi Akademii). In a highly unusual move, Sushkova dedicates these poems to two, albeit powerful, women, Catherine II and Princess Dashkova. This made perfect sense, given that these two women oversaw the journal Interlocutor of Lovers of the Russian Word (Sobesednik liubitelei rossisskogo slova) in which Sushkova’s poems appeared. Sushkova may well have been inspired by the model of these enlightened women—one on the throne and the other 7. See Rosslyn, “Mar’ya Vasil’evna Sushkova,” 85. 8. Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Sushkova.” 9. While most of these works were published, her translations from Petrarch and Milton, mentioned by her son, have not survived, N. V. Sushkov. See Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Sushkova.” The translation from Young is particularly intriguing because Turchaninova also mentions a predilection for his work and resists the strictures against writing such melancholy verse herself. In this volume, see the introduction to Turchaninova and also her poem, “Response to a Rejection of Melancholy Feelings in Poetry” (Otvet na neodobrenie melankholicheskikh chuvstvovanii v stikhakh).

300 Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova leading the Russian Academy. Yet it would be unwise to discount the extent to which she also responds here more broadly to the cultural politics and polemics of her day. The context for Sushkova’s “Chinaman’s Letter” perhaps demands the most explanation. It appeared in 1783, the same year her brother took up the post of state secretary and may well be connected to that appointment.10 The apparently enigmatic title makes sense when read as a response to G. R. Derzhavin’s 1782 genre-breaking panegyric ode to Catherine the Great, “Felitsa.” More specifically, it can be read as a response to Derzhavin’s detractors at court. Long included in the Russian literary canon, “Felitsa” stirred up controversy at the time of its publication.11 It was inspired by the eighteenth-century fashion for “Oriental tales” and, more specifically, by Catherine’s own attempt at the genre, her 1781 Tale of Prince Khlor (O tsareviche khlore).12 In his playful ode, Derzhavin writes from the persona of a corrupt and lazy murza (a Russian translation of an aristocratic title among Turkic principalities.). He comments on the corruption among Catherine’s courtiers (his fellow “murzas”), while of course praising her contrasting purity, modesty, and exemplary work ethic.13 Understandably, this thinly veiled critique of Catherine’s courtiers aroused the enmity of many at court. Sushkova’s murza poem, coming just a year after “Felitsa” (and the same year as his next poem in the genre, “Vision of a Murza” [Videnie murzy]) can be read as a mark of respect toward and defense of Derzhavin.14 In a letter to the editor preceding the poem, Sushkova frames the piece as a “found letter.” It is purportedly composed by a 10. Rosslyn, “Mar’ya Vasilievna Suskova,” 103. 11. For a detailed discussion of Derzhavin’s “Felitsa” in English, see Hart, G. R. Derzhavin, 47–59; and Crone, Daring of Derzhavin, 127–49. For an overview in Russian, see Serman, Derzhavin. 12. For a brief summary of Catherine’s The Tale of Prince Khlor see O’Malley, The Dramatic Works of Catherine the Great, 170. 13. Critiquing one’s own culture in the guise of exposing the tyranny and faults of “Eastern” despots had long since taken hold in France, perhaps best exemplified by Montesquieu’s 1721 Persian Letters (Lettres Persanes). 14. Derzhavin wrote four poems on this theme: “Felitsa” (1782), “Vision of a Murza” (Videnie murzy; 1783–84), “Gratitude to Felitsa” (Blagodarnost’ Felitse; 1783), and “The Depiction of Felitsa” (Izobrazhenie Felitsy; 1789).

Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova 301 “Chinaman” living in St. Petersburg and addressed to the very same murza of Derzhavin’s “Felitsa.” Stylistically, Sushkova’s ode departs notably from Derzhavin’s: whereas “Felitsa” proceeds in a light and humorous tone, with gently bouncing iambic tetrameters and a physically detailed world of feasting, card playing, and domestic pursuits, Sushkova responds with an earnest and abstract encomium. Written in rhymed couplets of iambic hexameter, a meter increasingly associated with serious genres as the century wore on, her poem is utterly devoid of humor. Throughout, Sushkova’s murza expresses admiration for Catherine the Great and her project of enlightenment and civilization. To some extent the ploy of the “found letter” merely indicates Sushkova’s use of a fashionable literary device of the day, with the editor insisting on the veracity of the text. Yet Sushkova’s gesture also serves to distance her from her own claims. The ruse of the “found manuscript” allows her to proceed with the seriousness of purpose and moral authority that she wishes to claim, but which she, as a woman, must appear to shun. Indeed, the male voice of the poem further conceals her identity within the text. The expected modesty topoi of her “Letter to the Editors” contrasts notably with the confident tone of the poem itself. As Wendy Rosslyn notes, “The ode was not an easy genre for women: it presupposed a male voice and required a high style, and therefore competence in Church Slavonic, which was not taught to women, and was familiar to them only from the liturgy.”15 Sushkova’s poem proceeds in a somber high style, a far cry from Derzhavin’s bold playfulness in “Felitsa.” The second poem included in this volume, “Stanzas on the Founding of the Russian Academy,” is also written in a lofty, odic style: iambic hexameter with alternating feminine and masculine rhymes. It appeared directly after the murza poem and was similarly framed by a letter to the editors. This time Sushkova does not conceal her gender. Although she again extends the expected modesty topoi, referring to her “feeble pen,” she nonetheless writes from the first person, in an ebulliently confident, even bombastic, tone. The poem celebrates Catherine’s appointment of Dashkova to direct the Russian Academy of Sciences and Dashkova’s subsequent creation of a Russian Academy 15. Rosslyn, “Mar’ya Vasil’evna Sushkova,” 103.

302 Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova within the Academy of Sciences to treat issues of language and literature, following the model of the Académie française. In this poem Sushkova conforms to the spirit of her times, enthusiastically predicting the imminent arrival of Russia’s “golden age,” when her motherland will surpass France, which for years stood as the preeminent model for all Europe. Other prominent Russian writers, including A. P. Sumarokov, had already expressed this dream of Russia surpassing France. Indeed, the great philosophe Voltaire had done much to foster these Russian hopes, repeatedly expressing regret over the decline of French culture and predicting that Russia, the fulfillment of his Enlightenment dreams, would rise in its place.16 Sushkova’s “Stanzas on the Founding of the Russian Academy” offers a rare meditation on women’s part in Russia’s emerging Europeanized culture. Urusova had touched upon the role of women poets in “Heroides Dedicated to the Muses,” which opens the Heroides, yet her poem offered something of a backhanded compliment. Although she framed women’s participation in Russian cultural life as a mark of high achievement, the underlying message intimated that women held such inferior talents that their arrival in print indicated Russia’s arrival on the European cultural stage. In other words, if “even” women were writing, then the Russians must indeed be enlightened. At first glance Sushkova honors Dashkova in a similar vein. She becomes an “honor to her sex,” and her appointment to the academy marks a “wondrous and new phenomenon.” As Rosslyn notes, Sushkova “refers to the worthiness of the appointment and the prejudice that might have prevented it, but for Catherine.”17 Yet this attention to Dashkova’s gender comprised but two lines in the poem. Overall, Sushkova avoids Dashkova’s identity as a woman, and weaves these asides about gender seamlessly into her poem. The overall effect is to celebrate Dashkova as a principal actor in the Russian Enlightenment, a natural extension, perhaps, of the female power on the throne. Sushkova by no means ignores gender issues, but unlike Urusova, who emphasized women’s inclusion in literary life as highly remarkable, she sets a new tone of normalcy. She creates a cultural landscape in which women poets and intellectuals are accepted as unremarkable, a regular part of a larger 16. See Ewington, A Voltaire for Russia, 56–61, 106–8. 17. Ibid., 104.

Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova 303 project of Russian Europeanization, side by side with men. Both by her own example as poet and by celebrating in her work two powerful intellectual women, she proceeds as though women were already natural participants in Russian cultural life. By painting a picture of a society open to women, she perhaps hoped to advance that same openness in the world beyond her text.

304 Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova Гопсода издатели Собеседника! Сделанная мне от Вас честь приглашением в Ваше Обшество, возбудя во мне должную благодарность, привела при том в замешательство, каким бы образом ответствовать на сей лестный знак Вашего уважения. Но как в то же время болезнь моя не дозволяла мне ни в чем упражняться, то я надеялась, с возвращением здоровья, получу и способность написать что ниесть достойное Ваше внимания. Однако в чаянии моем я обманулася, и по прошествии болезни еще была не решима к чему бы обратить мои мысли. Сие недоумение кончилось совсем неожидаемым случаем. Приехав недавно к Сибирскому купцу для покупки привезенных из Китая товаров, я увидела у него пакет к Татарскому Мурзе, живущему по делам своим в Петербурге. Толь чудная надпись меня удивила. Я спросила, что сие значит; а Сибиряк ответствовал, что сия бумага послана с ним от одного Китайца, имеющаго переписку со многими Европейскими жителями: но как ему неизвестно настоящее имя Мурзы, то не зная кому ее вручить, думает отослать обратно в Пекин. Признаюсь, любопытство мое еще умножилось, услыша, что сие письмо шло так издалека, и в нетерпении узнать содержащееся в нем, я просила купца вверить мне оное, и обещала доставить в надлежащия руки. Он на желание мое склонился; а я, распечатав пакет, усмотрела, что оный принадлежит тому из Ваших Членов, коего ода напечатана в первой части Собеседника. И так посылаю к Вам сие Китайское творение, тем с большим удовольствием, что через сие имею случай начать с Вами приятную для меня переписку, котроую, конечно буду продолжать, естьли силы и обстоятельства мои в том не воспрепятствуют: а теперь кончу сии строки изъявлением моего почтения к любителям словесных наук, пекущимся ставлять обществу приятныя и полезныя упражнения; и с сими чувствами пребуду Bам, государи мои, Покорная услужница М. С. Москва

Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova 305 To the Gentlemen Editors of the Sobesednik!1 The honor of an invitation into your society, awakening in me the requisite gratitude, has led me to a state of confusion about how to respond to this flattering mark of your esteem. However, since at that time my illness would not permit me to undertake any activity, I hoped that, upon the return of my health, I would also be able to write something worthy of your attention. However, I was deceived in my hopes, and when my illness passed I was still undecided about where to direct my thoughts. This perplexity ended with a most unexpected circumstance. Having recently visited a Siberian merchant to purchase some Chinese goods, I noticed a packet marked To the Tatar Murza Residing in Petersburg on Business. Such a wondrous inscription surprised me. I asked what it meant, and the Siberian replied that this document had been sent to him by a Chinaman who was in correspondence with many Europeans. Not knowing the real name of the murza and thus not knowing to whom it should be entrusted, he was thinking of sending it back to Peking. I must admit that my curiosity was increased further upon hearing that this letter came from so far away and, impatient to learn what it contained, I asked the merchant whether he might entrust it to me, and I promised to deliver it into the right hands. He bowed to my wishes, and having unsealed the packet, I saw that it belonged to one of your members, whose ode was published in the first section of the Sobesednik.2 And thus, I send along to you this Chinese creation with particular pleasure since it gives me the occasion to initiate a correspondence with you that I find so pleasant and which, of course, I will continue, if strength and circumstances permit. And now I will conclude these lines with an expression of my respect for lovers of the literary arts who are working to provide society with pleasant and useful exercises; and with these feelings I will always be, Sirs, Your submissive servant. M. S. Moscow

306 Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova Письмо китайца к татарскому мурзе, живущему по делам своим в Петербурге Когда подсолнечну Всевышний созидал, Цепями твердых гор отвсюду ограждал, Деля сей шар земной глубокими реками, Обширностью морей и знойными песками; Казалося тогда, что смертный осужден Влачить весь век в углу, в котором он рожден, И ведать лишь о том, что вкруг его творилось: Но в следствии времен все скоро пременилось. Дар разума, сей луч всещедра божества, Соделал смертных род царями естества: Познав себя, привед свой разум в совершенство, Обрел он мирну жизнь и в жизни cей блаженство. Тогда прочистились те мрачные леса, Где солнце от очей скрывали древеса, Где с человеками медведи обитали И пищу нужную из рук их исторгали. По сем художества, науки процвели, В безвестны области отвсюду путь нашли, Взаимной ползою народы съединились, И света целаго гражданами явились. Вотще делит их днесь пространство многих стран, Вотще грозит пловцам свирепый Океан: С конца земли в другом творимое мы знаем; В Пекине, О Мурза, стихи твои читаем, И истину любя, согласно говорим: На троне Северном Конфуция мы зрим. Уже лет с двадесять гласит повсюду слава, Величество души, премудрость, кротость нрава, Благотворительны законы и дела, Которыми себя толико вознесла, Пример земных Владык, полночных стран Царица, И днесь тобой, Мурза, воспетая Фелица. Монархам похвалы нередко лесть плетет: Но естьли с их певцем согласен целый свет,

Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova 307 A Chinaman’s Letter to the Tatar Murza Residing in Petersburg on Business When the Almighty created the world, He fenced it off with chains of solid mountains. The globe was divided by deep rivers, Wide seas, and burning sands. It seemed that man was condemned To drag out his entire life in the place where he was born And know only what occurred in his immediate surroundings. But over the course of time everything soon changed. The gift of reason, that ray of the all-generous deity, Made the human race into Nature’s kings. Once man knew himself and had perfected his reason, He discovered a peaceful life and happiness in it. At that time they cleared the dark forests Where trees had concealed the sun from his eyes; Where bears dwelled alongside people And wrested away their essential food. Then arts and sciences flourished. They found their way into unmapped regions. Peoples joined together for mutual benefit And became citizens of the entire world.3 In vain do the expanses of many countries divide them now. In vain does the fierce Ocean threaten seafarers. From one end of the earth to the other, we know God’s creation. O Murza! In Peking we read your poems And loving truth, we speak as one: On the Northern throne we behold a Confucius! For twenty years now her renown has spread everywhere: Her majestic soul, wisdom, humble manners, and The charitable laws and acts By which she has so elevated herself. ’Tis that example to earthly Rulers, the Queen of the Midnight Lands, Felitsa, whom you, Murza, have now extolled.4 Flattery quite often sings praise to monarchs, But if the whole world agrees with the singer

308 Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova И их дела твердит со чувством удивленья, Достойны те Цари любови и почтенья. Сиянья их имян ни зависть не затмит, Ни смерть их памяти в сердцах не истребит. До ныне славится премудрость Саломона; Сей муж, краса и честь Израильскаго трона, Толико оною народы удивил, Что весь восточный край его как Бога чтил. До ныне мы твердим о странствии Царицы, Прешедшей своего владыня границы, Дабы узреть лице толь мудраго Царя; Но в древних повестях пример сей усмотря, Возможно ли забыть, что в наши дни творится? Се новым странствиям вселенная дивится! На севере воскрес великий Саломон: И миром и войной повсюду славен он; Благотворением злодеев побеждает; Щедротою в сердцах престол свой утверждает. Вняв звукам громких дел, венчанныя главы Стекаются на брег гордящейся Невы, Где мудрость держит скиптр во образе Царицы, Где всех доброт собор живет в душе Фелицы. Там, подданных любя, самодержавна власть Печется устроять блаженную всем часть; Полезные для них законы изрекает; Спокойство общества не в казнях полагает; Но к слабостям людским с терпеньем снисходя, Согласно с истинной о правах их судя, Того лишь требует, чтоб все щастливо жили, И равнаго себе судьбы не тяготили. Божественны слова, где кротостью дыша, Изобразилася толь чистая душа, Твердясь из уст в уста, прейдите в вечны роды. А вы Царице сей подвластные народы, Исчисля все для вас подъятые труды, Со благодарностью вкушайте с них плоды;

Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova 309 And repeatedly recounts and wonders at their deeds, Then those kings merit love and respect. The brilliance of their name cannot be obscured by envy, Nor can their memory in our hearts be destroyed by death. To this day Solomon’s wisdom is renowned. That man, the beauty and honor of the Israelite throne, So astonished the people, That all the Eastern lands honored him as a God. To this day we repeatedly recount the journeys of that Queen Who crossed the borders of her estates, That she might behold such a wise King.5 But seeing this example in ancient tales, Is it possible to forget what occurs in our own day? The whole world wonders at new journeys! In the North a great Solomon is risen6 And everywhere he is renowned for peace and for war. He conquers evildoers with his good works. Even in anger he strengthens his throne with generosity. Harkening the thunder of his celebrated deeds, Crowned heads throng to the banks of the proud Neva,7 Where wisdom wields the scepter in the person of the Tsaritsa;8 Where hosts of every possible virtue reside in Felitsa’s soul. There autocratic power, loving its subjects, Takes care to give everyone a blessed lot. It makes useful laws for them. It does not use executions to keep the peace,9 But instead patiently judges their rights in accordance with the truth, Showing mercy for human weaknesses. It demands only that they should live happily And not burden the lives of their neighbors. These sacred words, in which such a pure heart most humbly expressed itself, Are now repeated by word of mouth And will be passed down through the ages. You, subject peoples of this Tsaritsa! I have recited all the works undertaken for you. Enjoy their fruits with gratitude!

310 Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova Законы мудрые в сердцах запечатлейте, И цели их достичь старание имейте. Се дань, достойная чувствительных сердец! Трудяся день и ночь на сей один конец, Она, забыв себя, о щастье вашем мыслит, И в нем единственно свое блаженство числит. —1783

Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova 311 Etch wise laws into your hearts And seek to achieve their aims! ’Tis a tribute worthy of sensitive hearts! Laboring day and night toward this one end, Sacrificing herself, she thinks only of your happiness And in it alone counts her blessings. —1783

312 Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova Стансы на учреждение Российской Академии Господа Издатели Собеседника! Одобрение, сделанное вами китайскому стихотворению, подает мне смелость подвергнуть суду вашему приложенные при сем Стансы, на учреждение Российской Академии. Знаю, что искусейшее перо, нежели мое, краснее бы изобразило цель сего заведения, известные успехи членов онаго, и ожидаемыя из того выгоды для славы Российскаго слова. В самом деле когда Француская Академия, установленная Кардиналом Ришелье в прошедшее столетие, толь скоро распространила язык свой по всей Европе; дерзаю предвещать равныя почести нашему языку, от учреждения, коему основание полагает Великая Екатерина. Живительный ЕЯ глас подаст конечно новую силу и способность любителям российскаго слова, к возведению онаго на верх возможнаго совершенства. Что же касается до меня, участвуя по склонности моей в успехах знаменитых наших писателей, осмеливаюсь, по сему одному праву, присоединить слабый глас неизвестной еще Музы, ко звукам их сладостнаго пения. Вас же прошу, господа издатели, поместя стихи мои в Собеседникова, почесть оные знаком моей благодарности за поощрение, коим вы меня удостоили, и данию моего почтения к отличным дарованиям вашего общества: с чем на всегда пребуду Вам, Государи мои, Покорная услужница. М. С. 12 ноября, Москва

Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova 313 Stanzas on the Founding of the Russian Academy Dear Sirs, Publishers of the Sobesednik,10 The approval that you gave the Chinese poem grants me the temerity to submit to your judgment the attached Stanzas on the Founding of the Russian Academy. I know that a more skillful pen than mine could more beautifully express the aim of this institution, the famous successes of its members, and the benefit to the glory of the Russian word that can be expected from it. All the same, given that the French Academy, founded by Cardinal Richelieu in the last century, so quickly disseminated its language throughout Europe, I dare predict equal honors to our language from an establishment whose founding was proposed by the Great Catherine. HER life-giving voice will provide new strength and abilities to lovers of the Russian word and will raise it to the height of all possible perfection. As concerns me, participating, as is my inclination, in the successes of our famous writers, I dare, in accordance with this privilege alone, join my feeble voice, still unknown to the Muses, to the sounds of their sweet singing. I ask you, dear publishers, placing my poem in the Sobesednik, to consider them a mark of my respect for the excellent talents of your society, with which I will always be, Sirs, Your humble servant, M. S. 12 November, Moscow

314 Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova Стансы на учреждение Российской Академии Среди веселия российскаго Парнаcса, Когда любимцам Муз созижден новый храм, Отколе тщаньем их, и силою их гласа, Польется точный смысл реченьям и словам, И где со временем язык обогащенный, Отринет слов чужих несвойственную смесь, Дерзнул воспети лик, избранный, просвщенный, Сплетенный с Музами теснейшим узлом днесь? Дерзну ли начертать блистающу картину, Во всех родах наук отличнейших умов, Из коих мысленно я вижу половину, Венчанных лаврами, в награду их трудов? Но се, писатели, цветут вам лавры новы! Стремитись свой язык украсить, вознести; Вам Музы в подвиге способствовать готовы, И славу Франции в России превзойти. Во древности времен процветшие народы, Гремели знанием среди побед своих; Возьмем в их повестях щастливейшие годы, И выcшую степень спокойства, славы их: Как Греция и Рим полсветом обладали, Во все концы земли проникнул их язык; Не Марсу одному служенье воздавали, Но купно чли они Пермесска Бога лик. Совместницей их став, предметом удивленья, Взнеслася Франция в новейши времена, Не силою меча, но силой просвещенья; Во вкусе, в знаниях, дает пример она: Прославленный язык отличными писцами, Всеобщим языком во всей Европе стал; И Людовиков век воспетый, Музы, вами, Безсмертной славою в потомстве возблистал.

Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova 315 Stanzas on the Founding of the Russian Academy Amidst the amusements of our Russian Parnassus;11 When a new temple to the Muses’ favorites has been raised; Whence by their zeal and their powerful voices Our words and speech will be imbued with precise thoughts And where, with time, our enriched tongue Will cast out that odd mixture of foreign words;12 I now dare praise a countenance chosen, enlightened, And bound to the Muses by the most steadfast ties. Dare I sketch a clear portrait Of our most distinguished minds in the arts and sciences, Half of whom I can envision Crowned in laurels in reward for their labors? But behold! Writers, new laurels are blossoming for you! Strive to embellish and elevate your language! The Muses stand ready to assist you in this feat And to surpass France’s glory in Russia.13 In ancient times the peoples who flourished Were renowned for knowledge amidst their victories. Let us consider the happiest years in their tales And the height of their tranquility, of their glory: When Greece and Rome possessed half the world, Their language spread to all ends of the earth. ’Twas not Mars14 alone they served— Along with him they honored the image of the Permessian god.15 The French nation, rivaling them, has become the object of amazement. In our most recent age it rose to fame Not by the power of the sword, but by the power of enlightenment. France sets the example in taste and knowledge: That language made glorious by excellent writers Became the common tongue for all Europe And the Age of Louis,16 glorified by you, Muses, Began to shine in posterity with eternal glory.

316 Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova Се, Музы росския, всещедрая судьбина, К подобным почестям вознесть стремится вас! Удобноль вам молчать? Сама ЕКАТЕРИНА Покров дарует вам, и оживляет глас. О коль прекрасное для вас отверзсто поле! Не нужно вымыслы вам к песням приобщать: Умейте лишь воспесть премудрость на престоле, И Россов век златый не сложно описать. А Ты, сотрудница писателей почтенных, Честь пола Твоего, свершай толь славный путь; Любительница Муз, тебе препорученных, Участвуй в лике их, и им красою будь: Чудесное в сей век и новое явленье, В тебе, о Дашкова, ученый видит свет; Минерва наших дней, гоня предразсужденье, Достоинствам твоим награду подает. —1783

Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova 317 Behold, Russian Muses! All-generous fate Strives to raise you up to similar honors! Is it proper for you to remain silent? CATHERINE herself17 Offers her protection and enlivens your voice. O, what a fine terrain has been opened for you! You need not weave invention into your songs: Simply learn how to extol wisdom on the throne And ’tis not difficult to describe the Russians’ Golden Age. And you—colleague of respected writers; honor to your sex!18 Complete that glorious path! Women who love the Muses have been assigned to your care. They take part in the Muses’ chorus and adorn them: O Dashkova!19 In you learned society beholds A wondrous and new phenomenon. The Minerva20 of our days, driving away prejudice,21 Rewards you for your virtues.22 —1783

Maria Voinovna Zubova (1749?–1799) Introduction Maria Voinovna Zubova (née Rimskaia-Korsakova) was born into an ancient noble family that would eventually include the famous composer Nikolai Rimskii-Korsakov. She received an excellent education at home, was quite gifted musically, and eventually married A.  N. Zubov, who became the governor general of Kursk in 1791. According to contemporaries, Zubova was well known in the early years of Catherine II’s reign for her singing and was esteemed as a woman of great wit. She died suddenly of a stroke in 1799 during a card game with friends.1 Nothing else is known of Zubova’s life. Although just one of her poems is extant, there is evidence that she was more than a dabbler. As early as 1772, N. I. Novikov wrote that she “composed quite a few very elegant poems, especially songs” and also translated from the French. He further noted that her works were “worthy of praise” for their pure style.2 Zubova’s present obscurity belies the intense popularity once enjoyed by her poem “I am Leaving for the Wilds.” This poem, long attributed to Zubova, was a staple in Russian culture among all social classes. A 1911 reference to the poem by the critic Mordovstev offers an example of its popularity: For almost a century all of Russia was singing that oncefashionable, emotional song and found it charming for its music, poetry, and content. That little song was sung at Court and in the highest aristocratic homes. Like anything that is more or less eternal, it then became 1. For the basic facts of Zubova’s biography, see Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Zubova, Mariia Voinovna,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=931; and Ledkovsky, Dictionary of Russian Women Writers, 760–61. Earlier sources include Novikov, Opyt istoricheskago slovaria, 264; Russov, Bibliograficheskii katalog, 24–25; Makarov, “Mar’ia Voinovna Zubova,” 35; Golitsyn, Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 121; and Mordovtsev, Zamechatel’nye istoricheskie zhenshchiny na Rusi, 163–64. 2. Novikov, Opyt istoricheskago slovaria, 69.

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320 Maria Voinovna Zubova the property of several generations, traversed to the far ends of Russia, and was then sung in all out-of-the-way places, and up to the present day is sung by sensitive priests’ wives of the old type in the farthest corners of the Russian land to the sounds of the gusli,3 which itself has become an archeological find. Whatever the case, that emotional song of Rimskaia-Korsakova became a historical little song, and to say “Leaving for the wilds” was to say something proverbial, something epic.4 Perhaps in an effort to confer a folksy character on her “little song,” Zubova employs a trochaic tetrameter with alternating masculine and feminine rhymes. Although this romantic song composed of conventional language and imagery resembles Kniazhnina’s elegy, Zubova, unlike Kniazhnina, writes and speaks openly in a female voice to her male lover.

3. A traditional Russian stringed instrument. 4. Mordovtsev, Zamechatel’nye istoricheskie zhenshchiny na Rusi, 163.

322 Maria Voinovna Zubova Я в пустыню удаляюсь Я в пустыню удаляюсь От прекрасных здешних мест; Сколько горестей смертельных Мне в разлуке должно снесть. Оставляю град любезный, Оставляю и того, Кто на свете мне милее И дороже мне всего. Пременять нельзя предела, Нельзя страсти истребить. Знать, судьба мне так велела, Чтоб в пустыне одной жить. В тех местах уединенных воображать буду тебя. О надежда мыслей пленных! Ты тревожишь здесь меня. Повсечасно буду плакать И тебя воспоминать; Ты старайся, мой любезный, Взор несчастный забывать. Уж вздыханьем и тоскою Пособить не можно нам, Коль несчастны мы судьбою И противны небесам. Здесь собранья, здесь веселье, Здесь все радости живут, А меня на зло мученье В места страшные влекут.

Maria Voinovna Zubova 323 I Am Leaving for the Wilds1 I am leaving for the wilds, Away from this beautiful place. How much fatal sorrow I must endure in our separation. I leave my beloved city And also leave the man Dearest to me in all the world, Most precious of all to me. Destiny cannot be changed. Passions cannot be destroyed. Clearly, fate commanded me To dwell alone in the wilds. In these secluded spots I shall imagine you. O, hope of my captive thoughts! You trouble me here. I shall always weep And remember you. My beloved, try to forget My unhappy gaze. Sighs and melancholy Can no longer help us If fate renders us unhappy And the heavens stand against us. There are gatherings here; there is merriment here; Every possible joy resides here. But I am brought to evil torment, To terrifying places.

324 Maria Voinovna Zubova Уменьши мое мученье И в разлуке тем уверь; Не забудь меня несчастну, Тем тоску мою умерь. Знаю, что и ты страдаешь И вздыхаешь обо мне; Но и ты знай, мой любезный, Что я мучусь по тебе. Ах, прости, прости, любезный! Разлучили нас с тобой; Не забудь меня, несчастну, И не будь пленен иной. —1791

Maria Voinovna Zubova 325 Lessen my torment And you will thus reassure me in our separation. Do not forget me, an unhappy maiden; Thus will you ease my anguish. I know that you too suffer And pine for me. But my beloved, please also know That I yearn for you. Ah! Farewell, farewell, my beloved! They have separated us! Do not forget me, an unhappy maiden, And do not fall captive to another. —1791

Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina (dates unknown) Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina (1778 or 1779–1841) Introduction Only the most basic facts about the Svin’ina sisters can be confirmed. Their father, Petr Sergeevich Svin’in, was a highly placed government official, but nothing is known about their mother or about the girls’ education.1 Unlike many of their contemporaries, who benefitted from the cultural circles of Moscow and St. Petersburg, the Svin’ina sisters spent their entire lives outside the capitals, in Pereslavl’. Nonetheless, perhaps thanks to their father’s highly placed connections, they came under the tutelage of two illustrious men of letters, V. S. Podshivalov and N. M. Karamzin, in whose Sentimentalist journals they published in the mid-1790s.2 As the poem “Gratitude” makes clear, Anastasia Svin’ina had at some point been praised by Mikhail Kheraskov, whose name appears repeatedly in this volume as a Maecenas to women writers. As for the poets’ personal lives, all that is known is that Ekaterina eventually married a Major General Bakhmetev, while Anastasia remained single.3 The Svin’ina sisters’ publishing history is hard to determine with any accuracy, as the lines of authorship are blurred. Ekaterina, whose short lyric “The Innocent Shepherdess” (Nevinnaia pastushka) appears in this volume, is thought to be the more prolific of the two. In addition to writing poetry, she also translated from the French. Further complicating matters, several poems traditionally attributed to Anastasia, including the four presented here, have been mistakenly

1. He was a senator, a cavalier, and an active privy councilor (the second-highest rank in the civil service). Makarov, “G-Zha Bakhmeteva i devitsa Svin’ina,” 49. 2. For an overview of the women publishing in Podshivalov’s and Novikov’s Sentimentalist journals, see Vladimirov, Pervye russkie pisatel’nitsy XVIII veka, 32–35. 3. Basic biographical entries on the Svin’ina sisters can be found in Golitsyn, Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 222–23; Ledkovsky, Dictionary of Russian Women Writers, 629–30; and Barker and Gheith, History of Women’s Writing in Russia, 355. The most detailed information remains Makarov, “G-Zha Bakhmeteva i devitsa Svin’ina,” 49–51.

327

328 Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina & Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina attributed to an all but unknown poet, Natalia Ivanovna Starova, who used the same cryptogram.4 In “Fate’s Decision” (Reshenie sud’by), Anastasia Svin’ina, like Kniazhnina forty years earlier, writes in a male voice. In an author’s footnote, she explains that the poem expresses the perspective of her friend’s fiancé; she wishes to reassure her friend as the latter prepares for the “decisive step” of marriage. Thus the female love object in the poem, who conforms perfectly to Sentimentalist ideals of sensibility, virtue, and purity, is none other than Svin’ina’s friend as imagined by her. That play of gender in the text is intriguing: the female poet writes from a male voice and portrays both his beloved and the male desire she provokes. Of course, the poem is chaste. The fiancé cares nothing for the glamor and noise of society. He ignores external beauty and dreams of marriage, not seduction. The poem is written in a slightly folksy trochaic tetrameter with couplets of alternating feminine and masculine rhyme.5 Like “Fate’s Decision,” Svin’ina’s “Gratitude” rejects the clamor of high society in favor of a peaceful inner world. Anastasia Svin’ina, like many of her older contemporaries, dedicates her work to Kheraskov, alluding to him as the “bard of Russia” and praising his poem “The Pilgrims” (Piligrimy). There is no evidence of a personal friendship or correspondence between the two, but the poem makes clear that he had publicly praised her, just as he would do with the grateful Magnitskaia sisters, whose work appears in this volume. “Gratitude” is written in the increasingly popular iambic tetrameter with alternating feminine and masculine rhymes. The third text by Anastasia Svin’ina presented here, “Milon’s Sorrow,” conforms to the conventions of pastoral verse, offering an 4. As Golitsyn and others following him note, the confusion arises from Anastasia’s occasional use of the same cryptogram as Starova—“N. S.” (referencing Nastia, a diminutive of Anastasia in Russian). Golitsyn, Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 222. Göpfert’s anthology includes Anastasia’s poems, but under Starova’s name. Given that nothing is known of Starova, that the Svin’ina sisters were known to have published in precisely the journals where these works originally appeared, and that Göpfert himself neither calls attention to the potential confusion nor attempts to justify the attribution to Starova, I have chosen to adhere to traditional attribution of these works. 5. For the popularity of the trochaic tetrameter and its use in light verse and songs, see Scherr, Russian Poetry, 69–70.

Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina & Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina 329 idealized, wholly un-Russian hero and landscape. There was never a Russian peasant called “Milon” or “Lizette.” As conventional as it may be, it does stand in contrast to “Fate’s Decision,” where Sentimentalism led the male subject to shun appearance in favor of spiritual truth. Here the pastoral hero, in keeping with genre expectations, has fallen utterly captive to the physical beauty of his beloved. As with “Gratitude,” this poem proceeds in a iambic tetrameter, but with alternating feminine and masculine rhymed couplets. “The Innocent Shepherdess,” written by Ekaterina Svin’ina, appeared a year later in the same journal, Karamzin’s Aonids (Aonidy). Not unusual for the period, Ekaterina does not mark the poem by genre. Still, the shepherdess, sheep, and Cupid all place it squarely within the pastoral discourse on love. The poem is thus framed with generic expectations, namely, a narrative of erotic love in which the maiden submits to the man’s desire. Yet, the entire poem is about avoiding Cupid (a far cry from Polion), and the shepherdess retaining her innocence. On the one hand, this poem may simply illustrate the development of pastoral in the direction of sentimental moralizing. Yet, as Anne Larsen notes in reference to a French pastoral poem similarly devoid of love, avoiding erotic attachment is “a noteworthy feat for a woman in the world of pastoral!”6 So too, perhaps, for Svin’ina, whose shepherdess rejects love and reclaims the pastoral space for herself. She inhabits the locus amoenus with no sexual strings attached. The poem follows the same metrical pattern and rhyme scheme as “Gratitude”: iambic tetrameter with alternating feminine and masculine rhymed couplets.

6. Larsen, “Catherine Des Roches, the Pastoral, and Salon Politics,” 233.

330 Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina & Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina Решение судьбы к В. А. Б. Видел пышность и блеск славы, Все веселья и забавы: Но блаженство их—мечта, Коль есть в сердце пустота! Что пленяет сердце нежно? Что питает безмятежно В непрерывном дух шуму? Прелесть свойственна уму. Я в Москве то обретаю, Взор любезной здесь встречаю: Как узрел её лишь раз, Рай почувствовал тотчас. Сколько нежности сердечной Мне для жизни впредь беспечной! Чрез чувствительность ея Сколько щастлив буду я! Добродетель в ней сияет, Солнце в Мае как блистает: Красота и тихий нрав Не теряют вечно прав. Ах! Душа ея безценна Всем на свете одаренна! Всяк бывает лучше с ней; Чьяж сравнится часть с моей? Не Амур теперь порхает; Скиптр Гимен уж простирает: Рок спокойствие сулит, Быть щастливым он велит.

Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina & Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina 331 Fate’s Decision. To V. A. B.1 I have seen the splendor and brilliance of renown; Every merriment and amusement. But their happiness is but a dream If the heart is empty! What captivates a tender heart? What calmly nourishes the spirit Amidst the ceaseless clamor? Beauty is the very soul of wit. Such do I find in Moscow. Here I meet a beloved gaze. As soon as I laid eyes upon her, I was immediately in heaven. What a carefree life and true tenderness Lie ahead for me! Her sensibility2 Will make me so happy! Virtue shines in her Like the sun in May. Beauty and a gentle disposition Never lose their rights. Ah! Her priceless soul Is endowed with every imaginable gift! Everyone becomes better in her presence. Whose fate can compare with mine? ’Tis not Cupid3 flutters about; ’Tis Hymen,4 already extends his scepter: Fate promises serenity And bids us be happy.

332 Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina & Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina В храме двери уж отверзты, Вижу вход моей Прелесты! Изготовлен там венец Для пылающих сердец.* —1795 Чувства благодарности Не громкия дела я в мире Старалась в песни превознесть; Не пела я мужей на лире, Нам смертным делающих честь. Невинны чувства изливая В уединении своем, В трудах забавы обретая, Мы дружбе жертвовали всем. Но дивны нам дела и славны, Всеместных плесков, хвал предмет. Герои лаврами венчанны, Вечанны лаврами Поэт. Певца России громка слава Дотоле в свете не умрет, Доколе Росская держава Свой вес и имя соблюдет. Дивят меня и Пилигримы, Красот блистающих собор; Где мудрость, Граций прелесть зримы, Где всюду очарован взор.

* Так пишет одна приятельница к другой, ободряя ее, при решительном шаге, изображением чувств ея любезнаго!—Да и какой любовник, какой жених не тронулся бы подобным описанием достоинств милой невесты?—Это самое лучшее и тонкое со стороны сочинительницы поздравление [author’s footnote].

Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina & Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina 333 The church doors already stand open; I see my dear one enter!5 The crown6 of burning hearts Has been prepared there.† —1795 Gratitude7 In my songs, ’twas not important worldly affairs I sought to extol. On my lyre I did not sing the men Who do honor to us mortals. Unbosoming innocent feelings In our seclusion, Finding amusement in our labors, We sacrificed everything to friendship. Yet we find amazing and glorious those affairs; The object of universal applause and praise. Heroes are crowned with laurels; And crowned in laurels stands the Poet. The glorious fame of Russia’s bard8 Shall not perish in this world So long as the Russian state Maintains its reputation and influence. And The Pilgrims9 also amazes me— That assembly of dazzling beauties Where the Graces’ 10 wisdom and charm is on display; Where everywhere our gaze is enchanted.

† Thus writes one young lady to her friend, reassuring her, at this decisive step, with an expression of her lover’s feelings! For what lover, what fiancé would not be touched by such a description of the merits of his sweet fiancée? This represents the authoress’s best and most delicate felicitations [author’s footnote].

334 Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina & Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina Мне дивен муж великодушный, Почтивший слабу песнь мою; Дух благодарности послушный Ему приносит дань свою. С чувствительностью сердечной Златыя струны строю я, И фимиам куряща вечной Душа пред ним видна моя. —1795 Милонова печаль От солнечных лучей скрываясь, Милон под тению сидел; В глубоки мысли погружаясь, С унынием на все глядел. Не страстна Феба жар палящий Его во мрак древесной гнал, Но огнь, в душе его горящий, Ему покоя не давал. Там птички хором прилетали Петь гимн весенним красотам; Резвясь зефиры тут играли По бархатным цветным полям. Ручей шумел с горы катаяся, И воздух чувства освежал – Милон Лизетою пленяся, Лил только слезы, воздыхал! Тоски его не разбивает Шум быстротечнаго ручья; Все чувства Лиза занимает — Он пленник красоты ея!

Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina & Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina 335 I am amazed by a kind-hearted man Who honored my weak song. My grateful spirit Pays him tribute. With deep sensibility, I strum the golden strings And praise him.11 My soul is bared before him. —1795 Milon’s Sorrow12 Hiding from the sun’s rays, Milon sat in the shade. Immersed in deep thoughts, He looked at everything despairingly. ’Twas not the burning heat of passionate Phoebus13 That chased him into woodland gloom. Rather, ’twas the fire burning in his soul That gave him no peace. Little birds arrived in a choir To sing hymns to spring’s beauties there. Frolicking, the zephyrs played Along the velvety flowered meadows. The brook babbled, tumbling down the mountain. The air refreshed the senses— Milon, falling captive to Lizette, Only shed tears and sighed! The babbling of the rapidly flowing brook Does not break up his melancholy. Liza occupies all his senses— He is captive to her beauty!

336 Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina & Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina В волнении души толь страстной Дрожащею рукой чертит: “Почто быть щастливым злощастной “И гибельной мне рок претит? “Какое в сих местах прелестных “Блаженство бы Милон вкушал, “Когда б в очах ея небесных “Взаимной пламень обретал! “Но знать судьбы ожесточились; “Послали строгой мне закон!” Тут к земле руки опустились; Еще—еще вздохнул Милон! — 1796 Невинная пастушка Для вас, невинныя овечки, Сижу я здесь у тихой речки; Для вас и тени я ищу; Об вас лишь мысля, не грущу. Меня свет пышной не пленяет, И бог любви не занимает; Его не чту я красоты; Оков не знаю тяготы. Не знаю хитростей собранья, И стон сердечнаго страданья Не возмущает сельский слух; Здесь тихо все, спокоен дух. Прелестныя мои овечки! Гуляйте вы со мной у речки. Друг верной защищает вас — И посох также есть у нас.

Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina & Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina 337 His deeply passionate soul agitated, He traces with a trembling hand: “Why does pernicious And unhappy Fate forbid me happiness? In these charming parts, What bliss Milon might have known If in her celestial eyes He had discovered a reciprocal flame! But apparently the fates have hardened; “They have laid a severe law upon me!” He fell to the ground and lost heart. Again and again Milon sighed. —1796 The Innocent Shepherdess14 For you, innocent lambs, I sit here by the quiet little river. For you as well I seek shade. Only when I think of you am I not sad. Society does not enchant me And the god of love does not occupy my thoughts. I neither revere his beauty, Nor feel the weight of his fetters. I know not the wiles of social gatherings. And in the countryside our ears are not disturbed By the moans of suffering hearts. Here everything is calm; my spirit is tranquil. My charming lambs! Stroll with me by the little river. A faithful friend protects you— And a staff we also hold.

338 Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina & Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina Для злых нет страха, ни закона; Но нам невинность оборона… Слыхала я, сего щита Бежит крылатое дитя. —1797

Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina & Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina 339 The wicked know neither law nor fear. But our innocence protects us … I’ve heard that the winged child runs15 From this shield. —1797

Natalia Leont’evna Magnitskaia (dates unknown) Aleksandra Leont’evna Magnitskaia (d. 1846) Introduction The scant biographical information available on Natalia and Aleksandra Magnitskaia has survived thanks to their brother, M. L. Magnitskii (1778–1844), a well-known intellectual and poet. The three were born into a noble and educated family; their father served in the Moscow Synod and their uncle was known as the author of an early mathematics text used by the great poet and scientist M. V. Lomonosov. As was frequently the case in aristocratic households, their brother was sent away to school, while the daughters received their education at home. Of Natalia’s biography, almost nothing is known. As for her sister, evidence suggests that after Aleksandra married Prince A. N. Obolenskii she put down her pen. No works are attributed to her in the final two decades of her life.1 Both women were quite prolific writers in the 1790s, although the lines of attribution for individual works are frequently blurred. Together with two friends, E. V. Shcherbatova and M. A. Boske, they translated Charles Dupaty’s Lettres sur l’Italie écrites en 1785 (1788), eleven of which appeared under Aleksandra’s name in 1798. They also published numerous poems in the Sentimentalist journals in which their brother’s work appeared, perhaps through his support and connections, although he was still quite young himself at the time. The two poems in this volume, both dedicated to Kheraskov, suggest that

1. The Magnitskaia sisters are discussed by Makarov, who mistakenly referred to them as the daughters rather than as the sisters of the famous Mikhail Leont’evich. Makarov, “Dve sestry devitsy Magnitskiia,” 65–77. Apparently building on Makarov’s error, Golitsyn (Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 155–56) lists their brother with the patronymic Mikhailovich. For a corrected entry on the sisters, see Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Magnitskaia, Aleksandra Leont’evna,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=965; and s.v. “Magnitskaia, Natal’ia Leont’evna,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=998. For more on their family, see idem, s.v. “Magnitskii, Mikhail Leont’evich,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=1000.

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342 Natalia Leont’evna Magnitskaia & Aleksandra Leont’evna Magnitskaia patronage might also have extended beyond their family.2 The sisters had not yet met the venerable “bard of Russia” at the time, so the poems to Kheraskov reflect a purely literary acquaintance. Most likely Ekaterina Urusova, the author of the Heroides and Polion, introduced the sisters to Kheraskov. She was Kheraskov’s cousin and known to be a close friend of Natalia Magnitskaia.3 It may seem odd that these young women chose to praise Kheraskov rather than N. M. Karamzin or other Sentimentalist writers who were the trendsetters of the era and controlled the journals. But as Aleksandra’s poem makes clear, the sisters’ adulation was occasioned by Kheraskov’s expressed admiration for their work. Her poem “To the Immortal Creator of The Rossiada” (K bessmertnomu tvortsu Rossiady) opens: “You honored the simple sounds of our lyres/With gratifying praise.” Whatever Kheraskov initially said to inspire this tribute remains unknown, but his response to them was published in the same issue of Pleasant and Useful Pastimes (Priatnoe i poleznoe preprovozhdenie vremeni) as were the Magnitskaia sisters’ poems to him. Kheraskov’s poetic response to Natalia and Aleksandra Magnitskaia stands in sharp contrast to his poetic conversation with Urusova almost twenty years earlier.4 Not only is his poem more concise, but it does not appear directly alongside the women’s poems to him, so does not directly “converse” with them as he had with his cousin Urusova. Moreover, whereas Kheraskov had confirmed Urusova’s ability to excel in whatever genre she chose, even the “masculine” realm of tragedy, he offers these young women a more constricted image of the ideal female poet. After duly praising them as “Graces” and referencing passages from their poems, he notes, “You are like Philomela/Not bold, but shy;/You conceal yourselves when you sing”5 2. It should be noted that their brother, Mikhail Magnitskii, had also written poetry in praise of Kheraskov around this same time. See Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei, s.v. “Magnitskii, Mikhail Leont’evich.” 3. Kochetkova, “Kniazhna Urusova i ee literaturnye sobesedniki,” 98. 4. See the introduction to Urusova in this volume. 5. The title of Kheraskov’s poem stands for “From the Creator of the Rossiada to N. L. and A. L. Magnitskaia.” M. Iu Kheraskov, “Ot T. R. H-L… Ne i A-L… M …Tskim,” Priatnoe i poleznoe preprovozhdenie vremeni 13 (1797): 208. Makarov (“Dve sestry devitsy Magnitskiia,” 76) reports contemporaries claiming that upon receipt of Kheraskov’s verse response to their

Natalia Leont’evna Magnitskaia & Aleksandra Leont’evna Magnitskaia 343 The designation “Philomela” is clearly intended as a compliment. As literary shorthand for a nightingale’s beautiful song, Philomela was associated with songs of lament. Kheraskov apparently comments not on these poems (addressed to him), but on the sisters’ other poems, written in the now popular Sentimental “tearful” strain. But could the allusion to Philomela also indicate sensitivity to their plight as women writers? In ancient texts the story of the sisters Procne and Philomela took on various forms, but the basic story remained the same: Tereus, married to Procne, desired her sister Philomela and raped her. In order to prevent Philomela from revealing the crime, Tereus hid her and cut out her tongue. Philomela—in what could be seen as a creative narrative act— then wove her story into a garment so that Procne would see it and discover the truth. Versions of the story then diverge, but all agree that the sisters were turned into birds; most have Procne becoming a swallow and Philomela a nightingale. Keeping in mind this well-known myth, it seems Kheraskov’s poem moves beyond simple literary shorthand for plaintive verse and Sentimental ideals of demure femininity. Rather, his observation that the sisters “conceal” themselves when singing brings to mind Philomela’s forced concealment and silence. In Russian both poems are quite interesting structurally. Aleksandra chooses a sonnet for “To the Immortal Creator of The Rossiada,” writing in iambic tetrameter with a rhyme scheme of AbAbCdCdEEffGhGh. Given that such adherence to specific genre markers was becoming less frequent, and Kheraskov had been dedicated to the development of the sonnet on Russian soil, it seems she quite intentionally bows to the master not just in word but also in form.6 Natalia’s “To the Bust of M. M. Kh.” (K biustu M. M. Kh.) also calls to mind a sonnet in that it consists of a sextain in iambic tetrameter with a rhyme scheme of aBBacc.

poems, the Magnitskaia sisters “immediately flew to Kheraskov himself with their personal gratitude.” 6. See the introduction to Kheraskova in this volume for a discussion of the Kheraskov group’s work on the sonnet.

344 Natalia Leont’evna Magnitskaia & Aleksandra Leont’evna Magnitskaia К бессмертному творцу “Россиады” Ты звуки наших лир простыя Приятною хвалой почтил, Труд Музы робкия, младыя, Своей улыбкой ободрил; Когдаб имела я священный Твой дар, с которым воспевал Ты Россиян освобожденных, Гремел перунами, блистал; Тогдаб прекрасными стихами, Тогдаб гремящими струнами Воспела благодарность я; Но лира не громка моя. И так, позволь, позволь в прелестный, Лавровый, славный твой венок, Безсмертный Бард, Певец почтенный, Вплести усердия цветок! —1797 К Бюсту М… М… Х… Сатурн свирепый, грозный в прах Преобратит сей вид почтенной; Но лиры звук его безсмертной В безмерных вечности полях Промчится быстро, загремит, Кто был Х*** возвестит. —1797

Natalia Leont’evna Magnitskaia & Aleksandra Leont’evna Magnitskaia 345 To the Immortal Creator of The Rossiada1 You honored the simple sounds of our lyres With gratifying praise. Your smile encouraged The labor of a timid young Muse. If only I possessed your sacred gift— With which you extolled The liberated Russians and Which roared and flashed with thunderbolts— Then with what magnificent verses And resounding strings I would sing my gratitude. But my lyre is not loud. And so permit me, do permit me, Immortal Bard and venerable Singer, To weave a flower of devotion Into your glorious and charming laurel wreath.2 —1797 To the Bust of M. M. Kh.3 Saturn, fierce and terrible, will turn This venerable countenance to dust.4 But the sound of his immortal lyre Will resound and race along The boundless fields of eternity. It will proclaim who Kh*** was. —1797

Maria Alekseevna Pospelova (1780–1805) Introduction Maria Alekseevna Pospelova marked her public literary debut at age sixteen with a triumphant ode to Emperor Paul I, although she is known to have dabbled in verse from the age of twelve. During her short life she contributed to the Sentimentalist journals, published two collections of poetry, and began a novel and a narrative poem. Pospelova’s accomplishments, already rare for a woman of her day, appear all the more remarkable given her humble social background.1 Pospelova was born in Moscow in 1780 into a poor gentry family.2 Her father, a low-ranking civil servant, died when she was still a child, leaving her mother to raise ten children alone. As the youngest child in the family, she received no formal schooling, but together with her sisters taught herself French, history, geography, drawing, music, and Russian literature. Although she lacked the highly placed connections enjoyed by other published writers, she somehow attracted the attention of the well-known litterateur V. S. Podshivalov, who included her work in his journal Pleasant and Useful Pastimes (Priatnoe i poleznoe preprovozhdenie vremeni). Her verse collection The Best Hours of My Life (Lushchie chasy zhizni moei) appeared in 1798, published by her relative F. T. Pospelov in the provincial city of Vladimir. Rather than feigning modesty with a cryptogram or pseudonym, she included her full name on the cover and in the dedication. This novelty of an exceedingly young provincial girl-poet attracted notice from the great writers of the day, including Kheraskov, Derzhavin, and 1. The most detailed information about Pospelova’s life and career appears in Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Pospelova, Mariia Alekseevna,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/ Default.aspx?tabid=844; and Stohler, “Mar’ia Pospelova, Mar’ia Bolotnikova, and Anna Naumova,” 95–127. See also Russov, Bibliograficheskii katalog, 36; Makarov, “V tsarstvovanie Imperatora Pavla Pervago,” 33–39; Golitsyn, Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 200–201; Ledkovsky, Dictionary of Russian Women Writers, 50–52; and Barker and Gheith, History of Women’s Writing in Russia, 345. 2. Stohler (“Mar’ia Pospelova, Mar’ia Bolotnikova, and Anna Naumova,” 100) notes the persistence of disagreement about Pospelova’s year of birth, with various accounts listing 1780, 1783, or 1784.

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348 Maria Alekseevna Pospelova Karamzin and earned her the ironic nickname “Muse of the Kliazma River.”3 An ode dedicated to Paul I also brought her much-needed financial support from the emperor in the form of a diamond ring. Encouraged by her success, Pospelova published a second collected volume in 1802, Some Traits of Nature and Truth, or Traces of My Thoughts and Feelings (Nekotorye cherty prirody i istiny, ili ottenki myslei i chuvstv moikh). The following year she moved with her sister and brother-in-law to St. Petersburg. There she began writing a novel in the spirit of François-Réne de Chateaubriand’s Atala (1801) entitled Al’manzor, and she also set to work on a poetic adaptation of a seventeenth-century Russian tale. After briefly residing in the imperial capital, Pospelova returned to Moscow in 1804 to be near her mother and two sisters. She died of consumption in 1805, at twentyfour years of age. The poems included in this volume originally appeared in Pospelova’s 1798 collection, The Best Hours of My Life. Dedicating that volume to Paul I’s wife, the empress Elizaveta Alekseevna, Pospelova dutifully opens with three lengthy panegyrics to the imperial family but follows with several more meditative poems and some pastoral verse. The dedication suggests that Pospelova felt compelled to highlight the odes to the exclusion of her lyric poems: Your Royal Highness! Most Munificent Sovereign! Glory, the traveling companion of virtue, adorning humanity, everywhere ringing forth Your superior gifts and the angelic virtues of Your soul, grants me the courage to present to Your Royal Highness the first fruits of my efforts. Your name shall be adorned by them; and I flatter myself with the hope that Your Seraphic soul will consider it worthy to kindly accept this sacrifice by a zealous Russian maiden. How enchanting, how sweet for me is the notion that my thoughts and feelings about religion and virtue, included in these small musings, will be revealed to the eyes of Your Royal Highness! I hope that You, with the 3. The ancient city of Vladimir, founded in 1108, is situated on the Kliazma River, about 125 miles east of Moscow.

Maria Alekseevna Pospelova 349 kindliness of a great soul, will forgive the shortcomings and imperfections that are found in my compositions and will mercifully forgive me for incidentally including several trifles—pictures of my imagination sketched in my free hours.4 Rather than reproduce Pospelova’s lengthy panegyrics, which were likely written to seek favor with the royal family, the pieces included here represent the spiritual Sentimentalist verse that she herself clearly cherished. Indeed, her second collection, Some Traits of Nature and Truth, testifies to her development in the direction of Sentimental light verse over panegyric odes. She dedicated those poems not to a member of the royal family but to “noble and sensitive souls.” She filled that volume with just the sort of Sentimental “trifles” for which she had earlier apologized. As Ursula Stohler notes, Pospelova’s diverse oeuvre is unified by a response to the trends of Russian Sentimentalism. On the one hand, Pospelova earnestly and repeatedly ascribed to the Sentimentalist notion of women as virtuous, close to nature, and the silent object of male desire. On the other hand, she subtly subverted those expectations, particularly when searching for a claim to poetic authority. In her moralizing spiritual verse she adopted the rather clichéd image of the pious woman. Yet this moralizing, which is visible in “A Prayer” and “Solitude,” implies a certain authority: “To lecture people about their failure to adhere to social or religious rules was thus a way for women to subvert the image of the speechless being that Sentimentalism had imposed on them.”5 In “May Morning,” also included in this volume, Pospelova no longer lectures the reader, but in good Sentimentalist style, demonstrates her exquisite ability to feel the beauty of nature and thus God’s greatness—a capacity the Sentimentalists perceived as the natural inheritance of women. In keeping with the solemnity of their subject matter, “A Prayer” and “Solitude” are both written in iambic hexameter with alternating couplets of feminine and masculine rhyme, a meter that was used widely in the eighteenth 4. Mar’ia Pospelova, Luchshie chasy zhizni moei (Vladimir: Tipografiia gubernskago pravleniia, 1798), introduction (unpaginated). 5. Stohler, “Mar’ia Pospelova, Mar’ia Bolotnikova, and Anna Naumova,” 126.

350 Maria Alekseevna Pospelova century but that was becoming increasingly associated with high-style verse. The more cheerful “May Morning” moves away from that high style, with four-line stanzas of iambic tetrameter with alternating feminine and masculine rhyme.

352 Maria Alekseevna Pospelova Молитва Начало всех вещей, Творец Премудрый света! Тебя молю, Тебя всех благ, существ предмета. Что выше Солнечных пролей ко мне лучи, Чтобы светили мне во мраке и ночи, Что жизни Лабиринт всечастно окружает, Что нас с прямой небес дороги совращает, И просвети мой ум Ты истинной небесной; Наставь меня на путь премудрости чудесной; Отверзни светлыя небесныя врата, Где Серафимов тьмы, где Ангел красота Над тысячьми миров сияют безконечно, Где, Боже! свой престол поставил Ты предвечно, Где хоры Ангелов поют Тебе Трисвят, По Сферам и мирам хвалу Тебе гласят. Я с бренныя земли глас к небу возношу, Источника щедрот и милости прошу. С высот небеснаго Престола на земли Надежды, веры глас Творец небес внемли, Лучем любви меня небесной оживи И снова милости свои ко мне яви; Волнение страстей мятежных укроти, Стенание мое в спокойство обрати, Дабы водимая Божественной рукою Приятнейшим путем шла к вечному покою, К блаженству, коему не может быть конец, Чтоб от Тебя принять безсмертия венец. —1798

Maria Alekseevna Pospelova 353 A Prayer1 Source of all things, Wise Creator of the world! I pray to Thee, the object of all blessings and all creation. Shed Thy light on me—Thy rays, which are higher than the sun’s— That they might shine for me in darkness and in night Which constantly surrounds the labyrinth of life; Which leads us astray from heaven’s straight path. Enlighten my mind with Thy heavenly truth. Set me on the path of miraculous wisdom. Open the bright heavenly gates Where hosts of Seraphim and the Angel of beauty Shine forever o’er thousands of worlds; Where, God, Thou hath placed your eternal throne; Where choirs of angels sing Thee thrice-holy hymns.2 They speak Thy praise o’er spheres and worlds. I raise my voice from this transitory earth to the heavens. I beg mercy of the source of all blessings. From the heights of Thy heavenly throne, Creator of the Heavens, Harken the voice of hope and faith on earth: Renew me with the ray of Thy heavenly love And again reveal Thy mercy to me. Calm the agitation of stormy passions. Turn my moaning to tranquility, So that, led by a Divine hand, I might walk along that most pleasant path toward eternal rest; Toward that happiness that has no end, So that I might receive from Thee the crown of immortality. —1798

354 Maria Alekseevna Pospelova Уединение О друг спокойствия, невинности, свободы, Изображение прекрасное Природы Во всей ея сердцам любезной простоте, В неподражаемой и милой красоте! Тьму прелестей в тебе находит сердце нежно, С тобой наш век течёт приятно, безмятежно: Ты неприметно нас ведешь блаженства в храм, Уединение! без терна по цветам. Пороки от тебя скрываются, бегут, Но как среди полей весной розы цветут, Так добродетели цветут в тебе небесны, Им кроткий мир всегда и тишина любезны. Твои украшены цветами мирны сени, Твои прохладныя темнозелены тени Лучами мудрости освещены блистают, Поэтов, мудрецов безсмертных нам являют. Здесь посещают их небесны часто Музы, И заключают здесь они с ними союзы. Здесь нежной жар в сердца Поэтов проливают, Воображение и ум воспламеняют. Сиянье чьих умов лишь Солнцами затмится, Те, коих слава лишь с мирами помрачится. Уединение! всегда тебя любили, Всегда приятности твои они хвалили. Ты души Мудрецов всегда собой пленяло, Сердца чувствительных Поэтов восхищало. Кто добродетель чтит, тот любит и тебя, Я сих в числе людей считаю и себя. Ты мило, я тебе в восторге песнь пою, И заключаю сим тебе хвалу мою. —1798

Maria Alekseevna Pospelova 355 Solitude3 O friend to serenity, innocence, and freedom! O beautiful image of Nature Which our hearts find dear in all her pleasant simplicity, In her inimitable and sweet beauty! Tender hearts find myriad delights in you. With you our lives pass pleasantly, placidly. Solitude, you lead us imperceptibly o’er thornless flowers Toward the temple of happiness. Vice hides and runs from you. Just as in springtime roses blossom in the fields, So heavenly virtues blossom within you. They always find your humble peacefulness and silence charming. Your peaceful canopies are adorned with flowers. Your cool, dark green shades shine, Illuminated by rays of wisdom, And show us the immortal poets and sages. Here celestial Muses often visit And join company with them. A gentle fervor pours into poets’ hearts. It inflames their minds and their imagination. Only the Sun can make their radiant minds seem dark; Only the planets can obscure their glory. Solitude! They have always loved you And have always praised your pleasantness. You have always captivated the souls of sages and Delighted the hearts of sensitive poets. Those who honor virtue love you as well. I too count myself amongst such people. Dear one! Enraptured, I sing you my song And thus conclude my praise. —1798

356 Maria Alekseevna Pospelova Майское утро Прелестной свет зари багряной Восточной край небес покрыл, Разсыпал блеск лучей румяной, От сна Природу возбудил. В одежде утренней прелестной, Явилися ея красы. Какой приятностью любезной Наполнены сии часы! Земля и небеса сияют Пленяющей глаза красой. Все виды прелестьми блистают И дух в восторг приводят мой. Свет— жизнь творения и радость От нас мрак ночи удалил; Прогнав забвение, он сладость В сердцах живущих возбудил. Уже прятной Гимн воспели По рощам птички и полям. Играют пастухи в свирели; Стада гуляют по лугам. Луга, покрытыя цветами, Блестящая роса поит. Ручей, кристальными струями Вияся по песку журчит. Наполнен воздух ароматным, Прелестным запахом цветов, И с шумом ветерок приятным Резвясь летает средь лугов.

Maria Alekseevna Pospelova 357 May Morning4 The lovely light of crimson dawn Covered the sky’s eastern edge, Scattered the rosy brilliance of its rays, And awakened Nature from sleep. Her beauty is displayed In this charming morning attire. With what sweet pleasantness These hours are filled! The earth and sky shine With a beauty that enchants the eye. Every vista sparkles with charm And enraptures my spirit. Light—that joy and soul of creation— Removes from us the gloom of night. Having chased away oblivion, It awakens sweet delight in living hearts. Already little birds have sung a pleasant Hymn O’er the fields and groves. Now shepherds play the reed. Herds wander o’er the meadows. The meadows, blanketed in flowers, Are bathed in shiny dew. The brook babbles, Its crystal current winding along the sand. The air is filled with the flowers’ Lovely fragrance And the light wind, with a pleasant whisper, Rushes along, frolicking amidst the meadows.

358 Maria Alekseevna Pospelova Из рощей тени удалились. Луч солнечной проник в леса; Его лучами озлатились Зелены, светлы древеса. Как мило все и как приятно, Как чисты, ясны небеса! Ах! сердцу нежному понятно, Сколь утра сладостна краса. Все, все веселием сияет, Все дышит радостью одной. С улыбкой кажется встречает Природа Майский день младой. Красой, величеством разящих, Разлив тьму блесков наконец В сиянии лучей блестящих Явился светлый дня отец. Сколь много сердце восхищает Сиянье красоты его! Сколь много душу возвышает Великость зрелища сего! —1798

Maria Alekseevna Pospelova 359 Shadows have withdrawn from the groves. A ray of sun has penetrated the forest. Its rays have turned the bright Green trees to gold. How delightful it all is, how pleasant! How pure and clear the skies! Ah! a tender heart understands How sweet is morning’s beauty. Everything shines with merriment; Everything breathes joy alone. It seems that Nature greets the young May day With a smile. In all his majesty and beauty, Spreading myriad sparks of light The bright father of day appears Shining in his brilliant rays. How the heart is captivated By his radiant beauty! How greatly the soul is elevated By the grandeur of this spectacle! —1798

Anna Aleksandrovna Turchaninova (dates unknown) Introduction In the late 1790s Anna Aleksandrovna Turchaninova was associated with competing literary trends. She benefited from the patronage of G. R. Derzhavin and other members of Lovers of the Russian Word, the core of the Archaist group that was organized around efforts to defend Russian language and literature from foreign words and structures.1 At the same time she managed to publish numerous poems in Pleasant and Useful Pastimes (Priatnoe i poleznoe preprovozhdenie vremeni), which was run by writers aligned with Sentimentalism who largely embraced foreign influence on Russian literature. In addition to composing verse, Turchaninova translated from the Latin. She was also reputed to be an avid traveler and naturalist. Makarov acclaims her as one of the few truly learned women of her day. Indeed, Turchaninova belonged to the circle of literary friends surrounding Derzhavin, as attested by Urusova’s poem to her which appears in this volume. There, Urusova expresses admiration for Turchaninova’s spiritual devotion but finds herself unable to follow her example. Unfortunately, despite an apparently rich literary and intellectual career, almost no details have survived about her life other than her status as an unmarried “maiden” (devitsa). Turchaninova’s 1798 “Self-Epitaph,” published at the height of Sentimentalism’s vogue for melancholy, offers a rather standard memento mori. In keeping with the requirements of the genre, the poem offers a laconic meditation on death. The “passerby” is first called to remember his own impending death and then beseeched to recall hers. As discussed in the volume introduction, the epitaph, as a middle 1. The most detailed information on Turchaninova remains Makarov, “Anna Aleksandrovna Turchaninova.” Turchaninova is briefly mentioned in Russov, Bibliograficheskii katalog, 42. Golitsyn (Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 252) provides a helpful list of her extensive publications, but no biographical data or anecdotes. Oddly, she does not appear in such recent resources as Ledkovsky, Dictionary of Russian Women Writers; Barker and Gheith, History of Women’s Writing in Russia; or Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka. Makarov (“Anna Aleksandrovna Turchaninova,” 50) notes that Turchaninova benefitted “from the patronage of Derzhavin, Shishkov, and other patriarchs of our literature.”

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362 Anna Aleksandrovna Turchaninova genre, might seem an attractive choice for women poets, but in fact its focus on personal grief or, as in in the case of this self-epitaph, its unseemly focus on the self, might have discouraged women who wished to conform to feminine ideals of modesty and propriety. Structurally, the poem does not depart from expectations: it is written in variable iambs (mostly trimeter) with alternating rhyme. The next poem, “Response to a Rejection of Melancholy Feelings in Poetry” (Otvet na neodobrenie melankholicheskikh chuvstvovanii v stikhakh), further substantiates Turchaninova’s predilection for Graveyard poetry.2 In this poem she openly declares her passion for the work of Edward Young, whose popular Night Thoughts was first translated into Russian almost three decades earlier by another woman writer, Maria Sushkova, whose work appears in this volume.3 By the time Turchaninova published her work, Young was already well known and popular among educated Russians, thus the suggestion that she was dissuaded from following in his footsteps may seem disingenuous.4 To be fair, perhaps what was deemed appropriate for men may still have been considered unseemly for women. After all, Young was appreciated in Russia primarily as a moralist, and women, as we have seen, were supposed to moralize only within the confines of hearth and home. That Turchaninova felt compelled to defend her right to compose poetry inspired by Young—a perfectly acceptable model for male poets at the time—suggests that at the turn of the nineteenth century women were perhaps still being steered away from the mainstream of Russian letters. The final poem presented here, “A Response,” is composed in trochaic tetrameter with alternating feminine and masculine rhyme. This meter, which appears in this volume primarily in somber or elegiac poems, was used for a range of genres 2. Edward’s Young’s “Night Thoughts” (1742) and Thomas Gray’s “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard” (1751) were key texts in a movement that came to be known as Graveyard Poetry. As Turchaninova’s work itself suggests, these meditative “Graveyard” poems address the inevitability of death and human hopes for life after death. 3. Zaborov (“ ‘Nochnye razmyshleniia’ Iunga”) notes Sushkova’s and other early Russian translations of Young. Sushkova was primarily known for being inspired by Enlightenment ideals of reason and science, and thus her decision to translate Young remains a bit of a mystery. 4. Levin (Perception of English Literature in Russia, 135–52) discusses Young’s fame in Russia in the context of Sentimentalist trends and Masonic literature.

Anna Aleksandrovna Turchaninova 363 during the eighteenth century but became increasingly associated with a certain “folksy” character during Turchaninova’s time.5

5. For an overview of the trochaic tetrameter, see Scherr, Russian Poetry, 69–75.

364 Anna Aleksandrovna Turchaninova Себе Эпитафия Под древом сим мой прах, Прохожий!—погребен, От бренности сея Мой дух освобожден. Щастлив в сем мире будь, И в гробе так желаю; — Ты вечность не забудь, Тебе напоминаю! — И коль чувствительности вздох, Слезаль на персть сию падет; — Вздох—будет мой венок, Слеза— мой монумент. —1798 Ответ на неодобрение меланхолических чувствований в стихах Мне советуют унылых Мыслей не внушать перу— И от чувствий сердцу милых Душу удалять свою. Петь, настроив звучну лиру, Резвость юных страстных дней, фимиам курить кумиру, С правдой прятаться своей. В игры с Грацьями пускаться, Их забавам подражать, Голосом Сирен прельщаться, С Юнгом слез не проливать. Нет! … воздушный представляет Замок мысль такая мне; В ней мой дух не обретает Пищи свойственной себе. —1798

Anna Aleksandrovna Turchaninova 365 Self-Epitaph1 O passerby, my remains lie buried Beneath this tree! My spirit has been freed From this ephemera. Be happy in this world. In my grave I wish that You not forget eternity; I stand as a reminder!2 And if a sigh of sensibility or a tear Should fall upon this dust— That sigh will be my crown; That tear, my monument. —1798 Response to a Rejection of Melancholy Feelings in Poetry3 They advise me not to incite my pen To melancholy thoughts— And to distance my soul From feelings dear to my heart. To sing, tuning the sonorous lyre, The frolics of passionate youthful days; To burn incense before idols.4 To hide away with my truth. To join in the Graces’5 games, To imitate their amusements, To be enchanted by the Sirens’6 call, To not shed tears with Young.7 No! … I consider such thoughts Mere castles in the air. In them my soul cannot obtain The nourishment that sustains it. —1798

Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova (1766–18??) Introduction Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova (m. Seletskaia) was born to Prince Mikhail Ivanovich Dolgorukov and his wife, Anna Nikolaevna Dolgorukova (née Stroganova). The Dolgorukovs were an ancient noble family but had lost much of their wealth and influence by the time Elizaveta was born. Dolgorukova was schooled at home with her younger brother, the poet Ivan Mikhailovich Dolgorukov (1764–1823), who reported that his sister studied everything he did except Latin, and that she received the same care and upbringing as his own. Dolgorukova published just a handful of poems; additional poems may have been circulated in manuscript form and later lost. The poems included in this volume appeared before her marriage to I. L. Seletskii at what would have been considered the extremely advanced age of almost forty. Nothing is known about her life after marriage.1 Although little is known of Dolgorukova’s biography, her extant poetry offers glimpses of her personal circumstances. Her work appeared in the Moscow Sentimentalist journal Hippocrene (Ippokrena) in 1799, the first with her full name and title and two under the cryptogram “K. E. Dlgrkva”:2 “Verses Written in a Cruel and Dangerous Illness” (Stikhi pisannye v zhestokoi i opasnoi bolezni), “Elegy on the Death of My Beloved Sister, Countess A. M. Efimovskaia, the 29th day of October, 1798” (Elegia na konchinu liubeznoi sestry Grafini A. M. Efimovskoi. 1798 goda, okt. 29 dnia), and “Epitaph” (Epitafiia). All three poems are written in iambic hexameter, a popular meter for a range of genres throughout the eighteenth century, but one particularly 1. Makarov includes Dolgorukova in his 1830 series of essays on women writers but refers to her throughout as Dolgorukaia: Makarov, “Eshche neskol’ko slov o sotrudnitsakh Sakhatskago,” 161–66; Golitsyn includes a brief entry of her under her married name, Seletskaia, in Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 224–25. More recently, Dolgorukova was included in Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Dolgorukova, Elizaveta Mikhailovna,” http://www. pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=798. 2. The K in Dolgorukova’s cryptogram stood for “kniazhna” (princess).”

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368 Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova associated with the elegy, as established by Sumarokov in the 1750s. Dolgorukova’s expression of grief for her sister and the cult of friendship and tears operating in these poems seems to position her firmly within the Sentimentalist trends of the 1790s. Yet references to her sister notwithstanding, these poems remain quite abstract contemplations on lost youth, death, and the ephemeral nature of life. With her high-style meter, somber abstraction, and moralizing, Dolgorukova’s style in fact harkens back to the elegiac tradition of the earlier part of the eighteenth century. “Verses” has an intriguing structure: a single sextain—a form usually associated with long, solemn poems—it has the unusual rhyme scheme of AAbCbC. The elegy on the death of her sister and the biblical-sounding “Epitaph” also included in this volume proceed in straightforward couplets of alternating feminine and masculine rhyme.

370 Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova Стихи писанные в жестокой и опасной болезни О горести других я слезы проливала, И ближняго беды— своими почитала: В болезни рок судил теперь самой страдать— И дружество о мне ток слезный проливает. Утехою—могу мученье почитать, Что сердце мне друзей толь ясно открывает. —1799 Элегия на кончину любезной сестры Графини А. М. Ефимовской. 1798 года, окт. 29 дня Уже свершился год, как я тебя лишилась, Как горесть в душу мне и в сердце водворилась, Как обновляется мученье всякой час, И мнится, лишь теперь оставила ты нас. Сердечной милой друг, сестра моя любезна! Постигнула меня тоска и участь слезна. Когда воображу, что нет уже тебя, Трепещет дух во мне и стынет кровь моя. Покинувши на одр, удручена тоскою, В нощной я тишине не чувствую покою! Хотя твой милый прах давно в земле лежит, День всякой новою тоской меня разит. Нещастнее меня кто в мире сем родился? Ах! Тщетноб родом кто, богатством похвалился! Сред всех их избежать не может лютых бед: Повсюду проложен к нещастию нам след. Богатство, роскошь, честь, сиянье, пышность славы, Слепой фортуны лишь на свете сем забавы; Она над смертными играет, как мечта, И радости ея лишь тень и суета. Кого сей день до звезд во славе возвышает, Того же вечеру в пучину зол свергает. Осыпавши его и златом и сребром, Но вдруг, как вихрем прах, его развеет дом.

Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova 371 Verses Written in a Cruel and Dangerous Illness1 I’ve shed tears for others’ misfortunes And considered my neighbor’s woes my own. Fate decreed that I, too, should suffer in illness And that friendship should shed a stream of tears for me. I consider a comfort that suffering Which so clearly reveals friends’ hearts to me. —1799 Elegy on the Death of My Beloved Sister, Countess A. M. Efimovskaia, the 29th day of October, 17982 A year has already passed since you were taken from me; Since sorrow settled into my heart and soul; Since this torment began to renew itself each hour. And it seems only just now you left us, My heart’s dear friend, my beloved sister! Anguish and a deplorable fate have befallen me. When I imagine that you are no longer here My spirit shudders and my blood runs cold. Leaving my bed, dispirited by anguish, I find no peace in nocturnal silence! Although your dear remains have long lain in the ground, Each day strikes me with new anguish. Who has been born unto this world more unfortunate than me? Ah! In vain do we boast of birth and wealth! Amidst them all we cannot escape cruel misfortunes: Everywhere for us the path is paved with unhappiness. Wealth, luxury, honor, brilliance, and the magnificence of reputation Are merely blind Fortune’s amusements in this world. Like a dream, she plays upon mortals And her joys are but shadow and vanity. He whom today she raises to the stars in glory, She will cast into the abyss of hell toward evening. Having showered a man with silver and gold, She will suddenly turn his house to splinters like so much dust in the whirlwind.

372 Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova На свете не дано прямое нам блаженство: Везде зрим суету, везде несовершенство; И дружество само, безценный дар Небес! Причиною для нас бывает горьких слез. Здесь удовольствие лишь с горестями смежно. Тот боле мучится, в ком сердце боле нежно. Мирския вещи все единной токмо прах, Как сновидение теряется в глазах; Так точно радости мирския изчезают, И в сердце горести едины оставляют. Стремись, душа моя! Стремися к небесам, Оставя слабости здесь свойственныя нам; От развращения пороков удалися, И жить и умирать спокойно научися. Но более всего себе самой внемли; Взглини на тех, что смерть похитила с земли, Которые прешли во мрак земной утробы: Покажут их тебе полуистлевши гробы, Что юность, прелести, приятность, красота, Все добродетели, и сердца доброта, Ум, воспитание, таланты, и науки, Освобождают ли от горести и муки? Ах, нет! Мы скорби здесь осуждены терпеть, В стенанье жизнь вести, и с плачем умереть. Вот здесь покоится прах юноши любезна! Могла бы жизнь его быть обществу полезна: В уме его блистал изящных знаний свет; Он добродетельми украсил юность лет: Нещастные его щедротой утешались:— Его уж боле нет—все с плачем с ним разстались. Нам Провидения неведомы пути!— Теперь на сей ты гроб вниманье обрати: Остатки тут лежат прекраснейшей девицы, Которой прелести имела блеск зарницы, Но сколько видом та была ни хороша, Прекраснее еще была ея душа; Всем радости она и щастье обещала …

Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova 373 We are not granted pure happiness in the world. Everywhere we behold vanity; everywhere, imperfection. And friendship itself, the Heavens’ priceless gift, Becomes for us a cause of bitter tears. Here pleasure is but joined with sorrow. He who has the more tender heart suffers more. All earthly things are but dust. Just as a dream gets lost in our eyes, So too do earthly joys vanish And leave behind only sorrow in our hearts. Soar, my soul! Soar to the heavens, Leaving behind the weaknesses that we all share! Retreat from the depravity of vice And learn to live and die peacefully. But above all else, heed yourself. Look at those whom death has taken from this world; Who have crossed into the dark bowels of the earth. Their half-decayed graves will show you That youth, charm, pleasantness, beauty, All virtues and kindnesses of heart, Wit, upbringing, talent, and learning— Do they free us from sorrow and torment? Ah, no! Here we are condemned to endure grief, To lead our lives in groans, and to perish in tears. For here lie the remains of an amiable youth! His life might have been useful to society: In his mind shone the light of refined knowledge. He enriched his young years with virtues. The unfortunate were comforted by his generosity— And now he is no more—everyone was in tears upon parting with him. The path of Providence is unknown to us! Now turn your attention to this grave: Here lie the remains of a beautiful young lady Whose charms shone like a flash of lightning. But however pretty she was to behold, More beautiful still was her soul. To everyone she promised joy and happiness…

374 Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova Ах! В цвете юности течение скончала. Горчайший пролился по ней источник слез. Подвержены мы все—велению Небес. Беги от нас, беги, безбожное роптанье!— Но можно ль отдалить от наших душ страданье? И на главу надев терпения венец, Возможно ль утолить мучение сердец? Ах, нет! Не можем мы преодолеть природу. Какому свойственно свирепому народу Урон любезнейших друзей не ощущать? И может ли о них кто слез не проливать? Сердечных ран моих болезнь неизцелима, Которою во мне душа моя томима! Печали век моей никто не облечит, Жестокая тоска мне смертию грозит. Спеши ко мне, спеши, желанная кончина! Не страха, радости ты будешь мне причина, Соединя меня с любезною сестрой. Увы! Коль тягостен на свете жребий мой! Ах! Чью гробницу здесь глаза мои встречают? Все чувства вдруг мои—мятутся, замирают; Хладеет в жилах кровь, темнеет свет в очах: Ах! твой, любезная сестра, сокрыт здесь прах! Мне сердце и душа то ясно возвещают, И горестью мой дух жестокою смущают. Едина нас с тобой соединила кровь, Но более еще взаимная любовь. Из детства дружество чистейшее в нас зрело, Но сердце уж твое на веки охладело. Уж не услышу я твоих приятных слов! В объятия твои мой дух лететь готов. Где, милая душа, где ныне обитаешь? Ах! Верно на меня ты взор свой обращаешь! Ты видишь грусть мою, отчаянье, печаль. Как сердце нежное пронзает остра сталь, Так грудь мою тоска ужасная терзает. Безтрепетно смотреть мой дух на смерть дерзает.

Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova 375 Ah! In the flower of youth she ended her course. A stream of bitter tears were shed for her. We are all subject to Heaven’s command. Flee from us, impious grumbling, flee! But can suffering be removed from our souls? And having donned the crown of patience Is it possible to relieve the heart’s torments? Ah, no! We cannot overcome nature. What cruel people Feel not the harm done to dearest friends? And is it possible not to shed tears for them? Incurable is the illness of my wounded heart Which torments my soul! No one can ever assuage my grief. Cruel anguish threatens me with death. Hasten toward me, my desired end! You will be the cause not of fear but of joy, Uniting me with my beloved sister. Alas! How burdensome is my lot in the world! Ah! Whose gravestone do my eyes encounter? Suddenly all my feelings are troubled; they fall silent. My blood runs cold in my veins; the light in my eyes darkens: Ah! Beloved sister, your remains are concealed here! My heart and soul announce it to me clearly And trouble my spirit with cruel sorrow. You and I were united by one blood, But even more, by a mutual love. Our most innocent friendship ripened from childhood, But already your heart has grown cold forever. No longer will I hear your pleasant words! My spirit is prepared to fly into your embrace. Where, dear soul, where do you now dwell? Ah! Surely you turn your gaze toward me! You see my sorrow, despair, and grief. As sharp steel pierces a tender heart, So a terrible anguish torments my breast. My spirit dares look fearlessly on death.

376 Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova Чего бояться мне? … лишилася я всего; Изсяк источник весь блаженства моего; Дни томны для меня давно уже влачились, Со времени, как мы родителя лишились; Едва дыханье я в груди моей вела, И только для тебя, любезной друг, жила. Ах! Для чего не я дни горькие скончала? А ты б еще сей свет собою украшала. Супругу, детям бы утехою была. Почто, ах! Не меня смерть лютая взяла? Тобою лишь могла я к жизни прилепиться! Кто сердцем и душей с тобою мог сравниться? В прекрасном теле ты имела кроткой дух, Тебя ль мне не жалеть, любезной, милой друг! Как не оплакивать те качества приятны, Которыя уже мне вечно невозвратны? Для горестных я мук разсталася с тобой; Ах! В образе каком прощалась ты со мной? Кровь стынет вся во мне тотчас, воспоминая, Когда страдала ты в болезни унывая: Взор томной обратя ко мне угасших глаз, Простилася со мной уже в последний раз. Уснула вечным сном в объятиях ты друга! На век оставила меня, детей, супруга! Тут слезы как река из наших глаз текли, И вопли горестны уняться не могли! Мы горести в душе и сердце ощущали, Одну печальну речь другия догоняли, И жалости стократ прибавили словам, Которыя тогда терзали сердце нам. Со времени того страдаю я ужасно! Я смерть зову к себе, но, ах! зову напрасно. Двух нежных прервала она союз сердец, Она же соединит их должна наконец. Тебя, любезная сестра, воображая, И прежде смерти зреть тебя не уповая, Я увядаю уж, и стала изсыхать,

Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova 377 What have I to fear? … I have lost everything: My entire fount of happiness has run dry. The days, so sad for me, have long dragged on Since that moment when we lost our parent. I was barely drawing breath And, beloved friend, lived only for you. Ah! Why was it not I who ended my bitter days? And you might still have adorned this world. You would have been a comfort to your spouse, to your children. Ah! Why did cruel death not take me? I was able to cling to life through you alone. Who can compare to you in heart and soul? You had a humble spirit within your beautiful body. Should I not lament you, dear, beloved friend! How can I not mourn those pleasant qualities Which are now gone forever? I parted with you for terrible torments. Ah! In what manner did you bid me farewell? My blood freezes when I but recall You suffering and despairing in your illness: Turning the sad gaze of your faded eyes toward me, You bid me farewell for the last time. In your friend’s embrace, you fell into eternal sleep! You left me, your children, and your husband forever! Now tears flowed from our eyes like a river And the sorrowful wails could not be subdued! We felt sorrow in our hearts and souls. One sad conversation followed another And increased a hundredfold the grief of the words That tormented our hearts at that time. Since that moment I have suffered terribly! I call death toward me, but, ah! I call in vain. She has torn asunder the union of two tender hearts; But she must bring them together in the end. Beloved sister, imagining you And having no hope of seeing you before my death, I already withered and was fading away.

378 Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova Во хладном теле дух стал томной погасать; Объяли в слабости меня болезни люты, С нетерпеливостью ждала я той минуты, Где б прах могла я мой с твоим соединить; Но, ах! осуждена еще я в свете жить, Чтобы еще я в нем грустила и страдала, Нещастной жизнию себя обременяла! Нашел ли день когда веселою меня, И я чтоб о тебе не плакала стеня? Ночь заставила ли меня когда не в скуке, В печали, в горести, в сердечной страшной муке? Забуду ли, мой друг сердечной, я тебя? Я скоро сокрушу в мучениях себя; С несносной жизнию я скоро разлучуся, И с милою сестрой на век соединюся, В жилищах радостных, где уж печали нет, С покойным духом я оставлю здешний свет. —1799 Эпитафия О роскоши сыны, что быстро так плывете По сребряным струям веселья и утех! Вы бурю наконец свирепую найдете, И в легкой вас ладье потопит тяжкое грех. Но вы сестры моей примером научитесь! (Здесь прах ея лежит, душа же в небесах) К душевным радостям подобно ей стремитесь, Блаженны будете во всех своих делах. Нас в добродетели Премудрость увещает, И с твердостью велит нещастие терпеть; Спокойство и в бедах дух доброй ощущает; Все для него равно—заснуть, иль умереть. —1799

Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova 379 In my cold body my sad spirit was growing faint. In my fraility, I was gripped by a cruel illness. Impatiently I awaited the moment When my dust would be united with yours. But, ah! I was fated still to live upon this earth That I might yet grieve and suffer And burden myself with an unhappy life! Has a day yet ever found me merry And not crying for you and moaning? Has a night yet caught me not suffering ennui, In sadness, in sorrow, in a truly terrifying torment? Will I forget you, my heart’s own friend? I will soon lie stricken in my torments. Soon I will depart this unbearable life And unite with my sweet sister forever In that joyous abode where there is no longer any grief. I will leave this world with a calm spirit. — 1799 Epitaph3 O ye sons of luxury, who sail so rapidly Along silver streams of merriment and delight. In the end you will be met by a fierce storm And heavy4 sin will drown you in your light craft. But learn from my sister’s example! (Here lie her remains; her soul is in heaven). Like her, strive for spiritual joys; You will be blessed in all your affairs. Wisdom exhorts us to virtue And firmly bids us endure misfortune. Kind spirits remains calm even amidst calamities; To fall asleep or die—’tis all the same to them. — 1799

Anna Sergeevna Zhukova (b.?–1799) Introduction The little information available on Anna Sergeevna Zhukova (née Buturlina) must be gleaned largely from two autobiographical poems that appeared in the Sentimentalist journal Hippocrene (Ippokrena) in 1799.1 Like many of her contemporaries, Zhukova’s writing was supported by family connections, in this case her husband, V. M. Zhukov (1764–1799), himself a published poet. Nothing is known of Zhukova’s early years or education, but her parents’ household likely encouraged literary arts, given that her sister, Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova, included in this volume, also emerged as a published writer in the 1790s. The intriguing question remains whether Zhukova might have shared some sort of literary camaraderie with Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova since Zhukova’s husband enjoyed a close friendship with Dolgorukova’s brother, I. M. Dolgorukov, which suggests that Zhukova would have at least known of her. Indeed, as a mark of friendship to Dolgorukova’s brother, Zhukova’s husband wrote a poem in her memory after her death.2 Zhukova’s poems have been dismissed as belonging to “the model of ‘ladies’ sentimental and dilettante poetry.”3 In “Maternal Feelings” (Chuvstva materi), she indeed offers just such light fare, employing iambic trimeter with alternating feminine and masculine rhyme, a meter typically reserved for light genres, like songs, romances, love poems, and short lyrics. She adopts the safely conventional role of the mother-nurturer, calling attention to her maternal side with a footnote about her sons and taking on the role of moral educator, teaching them love of God and country. She grounds the poem in 1. Basic biographical information on Zhukova appears in Makarov, “Sotrudnitsy Sakhatskago,” 180–81; Golitsyn, Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 114–15; and Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Zhukova, Anna Sergeevna,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/ Default.aspx?tabid=869. 2. See Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Zhukov, Vasilii Mikhailovich,” http://www. pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=863. 3. Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Zhukova, Anna Sergeevna.”

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382 Anna Sergeevna Zhukova the people and places important to her, mentioning the family estate at Lipnia and her two children by name. “To My Husband, From Whom I Am Separated” (K suprugu moemu, s kotorym ia v razluke) is written in the same meter and rhyme scheme as “Maternal Feelings” but adopts a different pose. Zhukova again alludes to personal relations (her husband and siblings), but now she takes some risk with propriety. The last stanzas of the poem report on her husband’s long stay abroad, a trip also mentioned by Neelova in her elegy on Zhukova’s death (included in this volume).4 If one is to understand that her husband was “captivated” not just by foreign lands but by another woman—as her insistence on her own faithfulness at the end of the poem could suggest—then Zhukova indeed defies expectations for genteel “ladies’ ” verse. The revelation of such personal details would have been highly unusual. One could, of course, just as easily read those concluding stanzas as unrelated to accusations of infidelity; rather, she emphasizes her ideal feminine loyalty and patience as she awaits her husband’s return from foreign lands. The few details about Zhukova’s biography are taken from these two poems, and the story of her death has survived only through poetry. “Elegy on the Death of My Husband and on My Sister’s Illness” by Elizaveta Sereegevna Neelova, and included in this volume, details the circumstances of Zhukova’s final illness. Using Neelova’s elegy as a source, the Dictionary of Eighteenth-Century Russian Writers (Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka) summarizes: “In the winter, after the death of her husband, Zhukova made a trip (apparently from Moscow) to the grave of her brother-in-law, Neelov, during which she caught cold and fell seriously ill … most likely that was the illness that caused Zhukova’s death.”5

4. Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka notes that Zhukov lived abroad through much of the 1780s, serving at the Russian Embassy in London from 1783 to 1785, and then in Copenhagen, returning to Russia in 1786. He apparently lived at his estate between 1792 and 1797 and then moved to Moscow, where he spent the last two years of his life. It is unclear what trip Zhukova is referring to in “To My Husband.” 5. Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Zhukova, Anna Sergeevna.”

384 Anna Sergeevna Zhukova Чувства матери Задумившись сидела, На стол облокотясь, И мысленно летела Я в Липню*6веселясь. Где в маленьком домишке Покойно буду жить; Разумушке и Мишке†7 Всегда, всегда твердить: Любили чтобы Бога, Царя бы чли отцем; То верная дорога К блаженству в мире сем. Ах! Будьте, дорогие, Веселием моим; Есть в свете люди злые; Не подражайте им. Как агнцы вы душею, Сердцами будьте львы; Отечеству своею Служите кровью вы. —1799

* Деревня, где строился тогда наш домик [author’s footnote]. † Сыновья мои [author’s footnote].

Anna Sergeevna Zhukova 385 Maternal Feelings1 I sat lost in thought, Elbows perched upon the table. Feeling merry, I imagined myself Hastening to Lipnia.‡8 There I shall live quietly In the little house And always remind Razumushka and Mishka§9 That they2 should love God and Honor the Tsar as their father. Such is the true path To happiness is this world. O! My dear ones, Be my merriment! In this world there are evil people. Do not imitate them. In your soul be a lamb, In your hearts, a lion. Serve the fatherland With your blood. —1799

‡ The village where, at that time, our little house was being built [author’s footnote]. § My sons [author’s footnote].

386 Anna Sergeevna Zhukova Супругу моему, с которым я в разлуке Мрак осени смущает Во мне печальной дух, И мне не возвращает, Тебя, любезной друг! Уже луна уныла Осьмой свершила бег; Вода в реке застыла, Идет вторично снег. С тех пор, как я с тобою В разлуке жизнь веду, Разстался ты со мною Конечно на беду. С тобою удалился На веки мой покой: Не ужь ли ты пленился Чужею стороной? Ах! вспомни, друг любезной, Супругу и детей; Об участи их слезной Восплачь в душе своей. Мой брат сюда приехал, И с ним сестры мои: Ах естьлиб он не ведал Все чувствия твои! Безлиственныя рощи Шумят в ушах моих, И ветр во мраке нощи На землю клонит их.

Anna Sergeevna Zhukova 387 To My Husband, From Whom I Am Separated3 Beloved friend! The autumnal gloom upsets My mournful spirit And does not return You to me. Already the forlorn moon has Completed its eighth phase. The water in the river has frozen solid. For a second time snow falls Since I started living My life apart from you. Of course you left me With a heavy heart. Along with you, My peace of mind has left for good. Can it be that you are enchanted By foreign lands? Oh, beloved friend! Remember your wife and children. In your soul shed tears For their piteous plight. My brother arrived here Along with my sisters. Oh, if only he did not know All your sentiments! In my ears I hear the rustle Of leafless groves, Which the wind, in dark of night, Bends to the ground.

388 Anna Sergeevna Zhukova Смущается Природа, Терпя зимы закон, Ах! щастье смертных рода Проходит будто сон. Мой брат, мой друг любезной И нежной мой супруг! Толь страсти безполезной Предашь ли ты свой дух! Нет, нет, тому не верю! Любовь твою ко мне Своей любовью мерю И верностью к тебе. Подобно ты мне верен Пребудешь навсегда; Ты не был лицемерен, Притворен никогда. Тебе Природа душу Нежнейшую дала. Я верность не нарушу— И я тебе мила. —1799

Anna Sergeevna Zhukova 389 Nature is disconcerted, Enduring winter’s reign. Ah! Human happiness Passes by like a dream. My brother, my beloved friend, My tender husband! Will you surrender your spirit To such a futile passion? No, no, I do not believe it! I measure your love for me By my own love And faithfulness to you. As you were faithful to me So you always will be. You never dissembled. You were never insincere. Nature granted you A most tender soul. I shall not violate my fidelity— And I remain dear to you. —1799

Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova (dates unknown) Introduction Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova (née Buturlina) was the sister of Anna Sergeevna Zhukova, whose poems are included in this volume. If Zhukova has fallen into obscurity, then Neelova has been all but forgotten. Indeed her one published poem, “Elegy on the Death of My Husband and on My Sister’s Illness” (Elegiia na smert’ supruga moego i bolezni’ sestry), recently appeared incorrectly attributed to another poet.1 In addition to this poem, Neelova published several prose pieces in the Sentimentalist journal Hippocrene (Ippokrena), suggesting some sort of enduring literary patronage, perhaps through her brother-in-law, the poet V. M. Zhukov. As with her sister Zhukova, nothing is known of Neelova’s family, education, or literary connections other than that the Buturlins were of ancient noble stock. The scant biographical evidence on Neelova can be ascertained from her poem, which reveals a close relationship with her sister and intense grief at the loss of her husband. As mentioned in the introduction to Zhukova, Neelova recounted her sister’s illness in this elegy but did not realize at the time that the illness would eventually take her sister’s life. This elegy is not only unusually specific—naming people, places, and events—but is interesting for its narrative quality. It shows how the elegy was evolving toward the turn of the century. The first poem included in this volume, Kniazhnina’s 1759 “Elegy,” employed the iambic hexameter that her father, A. P. Sumarokov, had made canonical for the genre. Following his lead, her elegy concerns lost 1. In his anthology, Göpfert credits this poem not to Neelova (despite the poem’s clear references to her sister Anna Sergeevna Zhukova) but to Elizaveta Kornil’evna Nilova (Göpfert and Fainshtein, Predstatel’nitsy muz, 255). Nilova indeed was a published author, but her work includes translations from the French, not original poetry. Makarov briefly discusses Neelova as part of his 1830–31 series of articles on women writers and, almost sixty years later, her name again appears briefly in Golitsyn’s dictionary. See Makarov, “Sotrudnitsy Sakhatskago,” 182–83; and Golitsyn, Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 180. Neelova and her “Elegy on the Death of My Husband and on My Sister’s Illness” are mentioned in the Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka in the entry on her sister, Zhukova.

391

392 Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova love, albeit of an idealized and abstract sort. No personal details are divulged. By the time Dolgorukova’s elegy on her sister appeared in 1798, the genre had shifted toward a preoccupation with death. Dolgorukova still adheres to the canonical structure and, though more specific in her description of loss than Kniazhnina, nonetheless provides little detail about her personal circumstances. Just a year after Dolgorukova’s poem, Neelova published this elegy, which reveals new possibilities for the genre. She replaces the iambic hexameter with the popular and slightly folksy trochaic tetrameter with alternating feminine and masculine rhymes.2 Her work reflects the structural loosening of the genre that was occurring in her era, as well as the thematic reorientation on melancholy and personal loss as subject matter.

2. For the popularity of the trochaic tetrameter and its use in light verse and songs, see Scherr, Russian Poetry, 69–70.

394 Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova Элегия на смерть супруга и болезни сестры Лишь оплакала супруга В горькой участи своей, Как было лишилась друга Я еще в сестре моей. Обе в Липне*3мы страдали, Ах, Анюта милый друг! Все нещастия напали На меня с тобою вдруг. Ты в болезни унывала Я крушилась за тебя, И по истине не знала, Кто нещастней, ты, иль я? Как теперь твою я слышу Речь унывную ко мне Зрю Розумушку и Мишу†4 Слезы льющих о тебе. Твой супруг отсель далеко, В чуждой дальней стороне, Мой лежит в земле глубоко, И не придет уж ко мне! Лучшеб, лучшеб согласилась Я стократно умереть! Мужа я на век лишилась, Жить должна я и терпеть. Проводишь всю жизнь в нещастье; Сердцем и душей страдать, * Деревня, в которой живет сестра моя А. С. Ж. [author’s footnote]. † Сыновья ея, а мои племянники [author’s footnote].

Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova 395 Elegy on the Death of My Husband and on My Sister’s Illness1 I had only just mourned my husband— Such was my bitter lot— When again a friend was almost taken from me In my sister. We both suffered at Lipnia.‡5 Ah, Aniuta!2 My sweet friend! Suddenly every misfortune fell Upon you and me. You despaired in your illness. I grieved for you And truly did not know Which of us was more unfortunate, you or I. As if it were right now, I hear your plaintive speech to me. I see Rozumushka and Misha§6 Shedding tears for you.3 Your husband is far away, In distant foreign lands. Mine lies deep in the ground And will never return to me! It would be better if I agreed To die a hundred times! I have been deprived of my husband forever; Life too I must now endure. You spend your whole life in misfortune, Suffering in heart and soul, ‡ The village where my sister, A. S. Zh., lives [author’s footnote]. § Her sons and my nephews [author’s footnote].

396 Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova Дней унылых зло ненастье Навсегда претерпевать! Чем я столько согрешила И прогневала Творца, Что и смерть меня забыла, И не сошлет мне конца? … Но почто роптать дерзаю, Боже, на судьбы Твои! На тебя я уповаю, Ты простишь вины мои. Я в нещастии жестоком Чувствую едва себя, И в страдании глубоком Что сказать, не знаю я. В тех местах я обитаю, Где супруга боле нет, Безпрестанно здесь страдаю, Без него не мил мне свет. Как со мною он разстался, Я осталася в Москве; Горестью мой дух терзался В нестерпимейшей тоске. Но как я оцепенила, Слыша, что страдает он! Я не ехала летела, Из Москвы скорее вон. Но, ах! сколь ни поспешала Все считав часы мои. На дороге я узнала, Что скончал он дни свои.

Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova 397 Ever enduring the foul weather Of cheerless days! How have I so sinned And angered the Creator, That even death has forgotten me And will not send me my end?…4 But God, how dare I grumble About Thy fate! I put my trust in Thee; Thou shalt forgive my sins. In cruel misfortune I Scarcely feel a thing. And in my deep suffering, I know not what to say. I reside in places Where my husband is no more. I suffer ceaselessly. Without him the world gives me no joy. When he parted from me I remained in Moscow. My spirit was tormented by grief In unbearable anguish. Upon hearing that he suffered I stood frozen, shocked! I did not ride but flew there At once from Moscow. But, ah! No matter how I hurried Ever checking my watch, Along the way I learned That his days had ended.

398 Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova Долго, долго, кто скончался, Я не знала, он, иль я; Мой разсудок весь терялся, Я не помнила себя. Как меня к тебе примчали, О Анюта, милой друг! Мы друг друга обнимали, И страдал в обеих дух. Ты поехала со мною, Где супруг мой погребен; Зрели место мы с тобою, Где в земле он положен. Зрели место—и рыдали. Ах! как я должна тебе! Но мы тем приготовляли Новую беду себе. Ты дорогой простудилась, Возвращаяся к себе; Ты горячкой вспламенилась, Я страдала о тебе. Жизнь свою была готова За тебя, мой друг, отдать! Будь ты, милая, здорова … Я готова умирать. Жизнь крушу и не жалею Я ни мало о себе: В мыслях только то имею, Чтоб скорее быть в земле. В хладной мне земле приятно С другом милым почивать,

Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova 399 For a long time I knew not Who had passed away, he or I. My reason was failing; I was beside myself. O beloved friend, Aniuta! When I rushed to you, We embraced each other And both of our spirits suffered. You set off with me To where my husband was buried. Together you and I beheld the spot Where he was placed in the earth. We beheld that spot—and sobbed. Ah, how I am in your debt! But with this we were preparing A new sorrow for ourselves. On the road home You caught cold. You were burning with fever. I suffered for you. My friend, I was prepared To give my own life for you! My dear, if you recovered your health … I was prepared to die. I destroy life and feel Not the least bit sorry for myself: I think of nothing but Being placed in the ground as soon as possible. I find it pleasing to rest with my dear friend In the cool earth

400 Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova И всего, что есть превратно, Тем на веки избежать. Я уныньем согрешаю, Мой Создатель, пред Тобой; Душу мучу, убиваю … Ах! возстав Ты мой покой. Боже! скорбной не остави В слабостях моих, прошу; Томну жизнь мою исправи, В сем молитву возношу. Я всечасно прибегаю, Истинный, к тебе, Отец! Ты возложишь, уповаю, За страдания венец. Я с супругом в жизни вечной Век желаю вместе быть; В жизни оной безконечной Все блаженство с ним вкусить. —1799

Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova 401 And thus abandon forever All inconstancy. In my despair I sin Before Thee, my Creator. I torment and murder my soul … O, you! My serenity, rise again! God! Don’t abandon me, a sorrowful woman. In my weakness I entreat you— Correct my sad life. To this I raise a prayer. I will always take refuge In Thee, the true Father! I trust that Thou shalt place A crown upon my suffering. I wish to be forever With my husband in eternal life— To taste every happiness with him In that life without end. — 1799

Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina (dates unknown) Introduction Little is known about Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina, who published a substantial collection of poetry and prose, The Blooming Rose, or Various Compositions in Prose and Verse (Raspuskaiushchaiasia roza ili raznyia sochineniia v proze i stikhakh), in 1799. How she came to accomplish such a rare feat can only be guessed, as she could boast of neither wealth nor literary connections. Indeed, Murzina never married and signed all her works “The Maiden Murzina.” Her ties to the Russian royal family may offer clues to her success in publishing. In 1798, her father, P. P. Murzin, sent the emperor Paul I a portrait along with a handwritten letter from Peter the Great to his own ancestor, Prokofii Murzin. Clearly wishing to remind the tsar of his illustrious grandfather’s fondness for the Murzin family, he took the liberty of entreating the emperor to care for his two impoverished daughters. Whether Paul responded to that letter is unknown, but he did offer some sort of monetary reward to Aleksandra for odes she presented to him and his wife in 1798 and 1799. Murzina continued this pattern of seeking financial support during the reign of Alexander I, when she dedicated odes to the emperor and his wife, and to the immensely wealthy Count Sheremetev. In addition to her odes to the royal family, Murzina excelled in prose and short lyric poetry, especially songs.1 In the preface to The Blooming Rose, which is included in this volume, Murzina proceeds in strict accordance with expected norms of female propriety, decorum, modesty, and virtue. Presenting herself 1. Murzina’s name appears briefly in the standard sources on the subject: see Russov, Bibliograficheskii katalog, 31; Golitsyn, Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 175; Barker and Gheith, History of Women’s Writing in Russia, 339. A bit more information appears in Makarov, “V tsarstvovanie Imperatora Pavla Pervago,” 38–39. The only relatively detailed source of biographical information remains Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Murzina, Aleksandra Petrovna,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=1065, which mainly repeats information from Makarov. Murzina’s poverty and reliance on patronage invites comparison to Pospelova, who also eked out a living by her pen and published her own collection, The Best Hours of My Life, in 1798, a year before Murzina’s Blooming Rose.

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404 Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina as a mere dabbler who happens to write verse to stave off boredom, she eschews any desire to instruct others. She claims to write only for herself. Like the women who preceded her, Murzina did not openly assert authority over her readers, moral or literary. Yet, her work itself belies such humility, beginning with the title. It becomes clear upon reading her collection that the “blooming rose” is Murzina herself— or perhaps women in general—coming into bloom, taking pride in their beauty and intelligence. Nowhere does Murzina’s true message of women’s equality emerge more explicitly than in the opening poem of her collection, “To My Readers” (K moim chitateliam), included here. Positioned between the opening series of prose sketches and the 130-odd pages of verse that follow, the poem offers an unusually candid critique of reigning male prejudice. In the poem Murzina proclaims vehemently what her prose cycle suggests only in hushed tones, namely, that both women and men demonstrate diversity of character—some good and intelligent, some stupid and petty. While this message may strike today’s readers as rather tame, it was extremely bold for the time. Murzina’s “To My Readers” marks the first time in Russian history that a woman writer dared take on the conventional social wisdom about women’s vapidity, not to mention long-reigning Orthodox images of women’s God-given inferiority. When Murzina insists that God created men and women as equals, she challenges church doctrine and accepted notions of women’s role in Russian culture. This bold assertion of equality marks Murzina as one of a handful of women who introduced the “woman question” into contemporary debates about social equality that primarily focused on the evils of serfdom.2 The poem is striking for its strident tone, as she not only defends women but also goes on the offensive, attacking men for their debauchery and hypocrisy. With “To My Readers” Murzina launches a tradition of openly feminist poetry, which continued in the first years of the nineteenth century by Bolotnikova and, later, by one of the most prominent Russian writers of the early nineteenth century, Karolina Pavlova. 2. Stohler (“Released from Her Fetters?” 9) notes that Murzina’s poem “suggests the potential to feminist criticism of liberal ideas circulating in the early nineteenth century.”

Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina 405 In the original Russian, “To My Readers” appears in iambic trimeter, which was typically associated with light middle genres. Murzina structures the poem into thirteen eight-line stanzas with alternating masculine and feminine rhyme throughout.

406 Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina Предисловие Вот благосклонный читатель! Предлагаю твоему благоразумию слабые труды мои. Упражнявшись в сем, имела в виду конец не других, но себя научить. Просвещенная Россия не имеет недостатка в тех способах, которые служат к возвышению душевных способностей, и к исправлению порочности. Собственное удовольствие, которое я находила в изображении мыслей и чувств моих, было к сему первым побуждением. Я разсудила, что лучше делать и отдать что-нибудь пересудам критики, нежели проводить время в совершенной праздности. Первая заставляет примечать свои недостатки; Последняя же и подумать о них не велит. Приятность учения пленила душу мою; И истинные любители его веселятся даже тем, когда на незрелые плоды его взирают.

К читателям Писать я для того Стихами начинала, Веселья моего Предметом их считала, Чтоб скуки избежать, Что праздность порождает; Тщеславие жь питать Душа моя не знает. Мой дух не возмутит Никто своей хулою; Пусть Фурия язвит,— Я чту сие мечтою. Одна ль такой порок Должна сносить я ныне? Весь Авторов собор Подвержен сей судьбине.

Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina 407 Preface1 Behold, gracious reader! I offer my weak labors to your good sense. With these exercises I sought to teach only myself, not others. Our enlightened Russia does not lack for ways to elevate spiritual faculties and correct depravity. I was first drawn to this endeavor by the pleasure of expressing my thoughts and feelings. I reasoned that it was better to do something and submit it to the critics’ judgment than to pass the time in complete idleness. The former forces us to note our deficiencies; the latter does not permit us even to consider them. The pleasure of learning captivated my soul; and those who truly love learning rejoice even when gazing upon its unripe fruits.

To My Readers I began to write poetry For this reason: I found it an object Of amusement; A way to avoid a boredom That breeds idleness. My soul cares nothing For flattered vanity. No one can disturb my spirit With abuse. Let the Fury2 sting,— ’Tis but a dream to me. Today must I alone Endure such depravity? No, a whole host of authors Is subjected to this fate.

408 Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina Но более тому Я слушая дивилась, Что к полу моему Сатира вся клонилась: Как будто женский пол Жизнь в мраке провождает; Мужщина ж, презря дол, Умом в звездах летает; Что будтоб нас Творец Не наградил умами, А нежности сердец Дал властвовать над нами; Что нами суета Едина обладает, И только красота К нам прочих привлекает. Се!—Как они любя Свои таланты, мыслят, Презревши нас, себя В рузумных только числят. Но естьли в их умы, В их нравы вникнуть строже; То, в чем коль слабы мы, И в них во всем всё тоже. Такой же суеты Идут они стезями, Чтут нежность красоты, Тщеславны также сами Распутство в них одно;— Притворство обожают, В уме остры равно, Поверхность лишь хватают.

Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina 409 But above all I was amazed to hear That against my sex satire Has taken aim. As if the female sex Spent their life in darkness, While men, disdaining the land below, Believe that they fly among the stars. As if the Creator Had not rewarded us with minds, But gave us to be ruled By tenderheartedness, So that we might occupy ourselves With trifles alone; So that only beauty could Attract others to us. There you have it! That’s how they reason, admiring their own talents. Despising us, they count Only themselves among the reasonable. But if we are to consider their minds, Then, let’s view more severely their morals too; For as weak as we may be, The very same is true of them. They travel the path Of those same vanities. They revere delicate beauty And themselves are vainglorious. In them there is the same profligacy: They adore deception. In wit they are equally sharp. They grasp only at surfaces.

410 Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina Тем только разве нас Талантом превосходят, Что каждой день и час В развратах жизнь приводят. Всех тщатся обмануть, Забывши святость веры; И ложью мня блеснуть, Роскошствуют без меры. К нам гордостью дыша, Порочат, презирают, И совесть заглуша Безстыдно укоряют. Ужель премудрый Бог Имел в своем совете, Чтобы мужчина мог Один судить о свете? О гордо бытие! Сколь нагло и обидно Мечтание твое! — Из опыта всем видно, Что в женщинах ум есть, Сия небес награда; Пример могу привесть: Се Росская Паллада! Довольно есть мужей Почтенных, просвещенных; Велики те душей, Далеки от презренных! Дар здраво рассуждать И женщины имеют, И красотой пленять Душевною умеют.

Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina 411 Truly they surpass us only In the talent Of spending every moment of their lives In debauchery. Having forgotten the sanctity of faith, They attempt to deceive everyone. Aiming to shine with their lies, They live in boundless luxury. Huffing at us with pride, They defame and despise And, stifling conscience, Shamelessly reproach. Did our most wise God truly Have in his counsel That man alone could Opine upon the world? O proud being! How impudent and offensive Is your fantasy! From experience all can see That women too have a mind; That heavenly reward. I shall bring forth an example: Behold the Russian Palladium!3 There are plenty of Honorable and enlightened men. Those great souls are far removed From the despicable ones! Women also possess The gift of sound reason And can captivate With spiritual beauty.

412 Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina Но чтобы перестать Наскучивать словами; Могу ко всем сказать, Есть всяких между нами: Мужчин премного есть С пустою головою, Хотят жизнь кои весть Предавшися покою. И в нашем поле есть Умом не совершенны, А можно ли почесть, Что все ума лишенны?— Так видно наконец И опыт утверждает, Что смертных род Творец Во всех дарах равняет. И так кто всех людей Язвительно ругает, Тот критикой своей Себя лишь унижает. Кто ж разумом высок, Тот более снисходит, Не ставит он в порок, Хоть слабо что находит. —1799

Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina 413 In order to stop Boring you with words, I say to all: In our midst we find every type. There are plenty of men With empty heads, Who wish to spend their lives Abandoned to repose. Among our sex one finds Those of imperfect mind. But can one consider That all women lack sense? Thus, at last one can see, And experience confirms, That the Creator treats the human race Equally in all his gifts. And thus, those who Caustically abuse everyone Lower only themselves With their criticism, Whereas those of lofty mind More often condescend. They do not count a vice, Though weakness they might find. —1799

Varvara Aleksandrovna Karaulova (1774–1842) Introduction Varvara Aleksandrovna Karaulova (m. Kniazhnina) was hailed by contemporaries as a writer of great sensibility. Despite some vague references to her “works,” only one poem has been positively attributed to her: “A Mother’s Conversation with Her Little Son” (Razgovor materi s malen’kim ee synom). Details of Karaulova’s biography likewise remain hazy. Sometime after this poem appeared, she married Aleksandr Iakovlevich Kniazhnin (1771–1829), thus becoming daughter-in-law to Russia’s first published woman writer, Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Kniazhnina (included in this volume) and her wellknown playwright husband, Iakov Borisovich Kniazhnin.1 “A Mother’s Conversation with Her Little Son” provides an interesting example of translation—or adaptation—being used to broach subjects that would otherwise be deemed inappropriate for women. Contemporaries would have recognized Karaulova’s poem as inspired by “Plaintes d’une mère auprès du berceau de son fils” by the popular French poet Arnaud Berquin.2 In his 1830 discussion of Karaulova, Makarov notes that the French original includes even “more and stronger reproaches from the grieving mother” but that “they are too strong, and therefore our translator-authoress, most likely intentionally, left out anything that could never properly belong to a woman’s pen.”3 Wendy Rosslyn has offered a possible autobiographical 1. See Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Karaulova, Varvara Aleksandrovna,” http:// www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=995. See also M. N. Makarov, “Vek Aleksandra blagoslovennago,” 4–6. 2. Berquin, “Plaintes d’une mère,” 410. Rosslyn (“Making Their Way into Print,” 437, n81) notes that “Berquin was one of the authors most often translated by Russian women, which suggests that he was also widely read by female readers.” In her volume on eighteenthcentury Russian women translators, Rosslyn suggests other possible reasons for Karaulova’s changes, including the possibility that she found the sentiments in the original poem, “alien to her own experience of femininity and motherhood, or that Berquin’s text was the starting point for what is essentially a new poem of her own.” Wendy Rosslyn, Feats of Agreeable Usefulness, 116). 3. Makarov, “Vek Aleksandra Blagoslovennago,” 6 (emphasis in the original).

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416 Varvara Aleksandrovna Karaulova motif to the poem, suggesting that by concealing herself behind the well-known original text, Karaulova allowed herself to indulge in what otherwise would be a “painful self-revelation.”4 Since next to nothing is known about her life, this possible autobiographical resonance cannot be confirmed. Karaulova’s poem should be considered a loose adaptation rather than a translation. First, Berquin’s “romance” was clearly intended to be set to music, with a refrain after each stanza: “Sleep my child, close your lids / Your cries break my heart.” Karaulova’s poem has no refrain, although her choice of trochaic tetrameter could signal that it was meant to be sung.5 The structure generally adheres to Berquin’s poem in length and in the alternating rhyme scheme (feminine/masculine in the Russian), but her title and basic narrative departs from his. Berquin’s “Plaintes d’une mère,” “a mother’s laments”—frames a scene of intense pathos that Karaulova reframes as a “conversation” (razgovor). Further, Berquin returns to the scene of seduction that led to the pregnancy; the child’s resemblance to his father repeatedly reminds the mother of her shame and his betrayal. Editors of Berquin’s collected works clearly appreciated the risqué nature of this poem, including a warning label of sorts in a footnote: “Parents will appreciate the reasons that led us to include, in a collection specially aimed at children, only a few of Berquin’s idylls and romances.”6 Karaulova makes no attempt to retain the illicit passion of the original. Where Berquin highlights seduction and treachery, Karaulova invites readers into an intimate conversation; a universally recognizable scene of a mother soothing her infant. In contrast to Berquin’s fallen woman, who worries frantically about the future and declares a shared plight with her child, Karaulova’s mother focuses on the present moment and on her child’s innocence, concluding that her baby’s tears result from her own anguish. In the end, Karaulova transforms Berquin’s wrenching ballad into a domestic idyll and 4. Rosslyn, “Making Their Way into Print,” 436–37. 5. Scherr (Russian Poetry, 69–70) notes that the trochaic tetrameter accounted for 10 percent of all Russian verse in the eighteenth century. Although a popular and versatile meter, it did connote a certain folksiness, and it was used for light verse and poems intended to be sung. 6. Berquin, “Plaintes d’une mère,” 410.

Varvara Aleksandrovna Karaulova 417 meditation on childhood innocence. To be sure, she offers hints of the mother’s unfortunate love affair, but the mother–child relationship remains central.

418 Varvara Aleksandrovna Karaulova Разговор матери с маленьким ее сыном Что с слезами пробудился? Ангел милой! Улыбнись, Никого ты не лишился. Так уймись, мой друг, уймись. — Что так рано грусть с тобою, При разсвете дней твоих? Ты из глаз твоих слезою Множишь лютость мук моих. Или с молоком впиваешь Ты тоску мою в себя? Скорбь почто так рано знаешь, Что противно для тебя? Мне судьбы определили Быть нещастной и страдать, Сердцем странным наделили, Чтобы больше мук мне знать. Я росла, как ты, в свободе И не знала, как грустить. Видно, что во всей Природе Должно плакать и любить! Твоего отца любила, Вгляд его был мой закон; В сердце нежность всю хранила, В нем почтен был мною он. За любовь мою презренье Ныне вижу от него; Он не знает, что мученье Мне готовит из того.

Varvara Aleksandrovna Karaulova 419 A Mother’s Conversation with Her Little Son1 Why have you woken in tears? Sweet angel! Smile! No one has abandoned you. So calm down, my friend, calm down. Why does grief visit you so early, At the dawn of your days? The tears in your eyes Increase my cruel torments. Or do you drink in my anguish Along with my milk? Why should you know so early a sorrow That is foreign to you? The fates determined that I should Be unhappy and suffer. They endowed me with a strange heart, So that I might know more torments. Like you, I was raised in freedom And knew not how to grieve. ’Tis certain—everywhere in Nature, Tears and love must reside together! I loved your father. His gaze was my law. My heart remained tender And I honored him. I now see his disdain In return for my love. He knows not that He thus prepares my torment.

420 Varvara Aleksandrovna Karaulova Знать не льзя тебя печали, Ты не можешь рассуждать: Чувства чувствам грусть сказали, И—ты начал тосковать. —1800

Varvara Aleksandrovna Karaulova 421 You cannot know sadness. You are unable to reason. Feelings spoke grief to feelings And … you too began to anguish. — 1800

Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina (1759–1833) Maria Osipovna Moskvina (1765–1824) Like so many of their contemporaries, Maria and Elizaveta Moskvina have fallen into obscurity. The sisters were born into a wealthy and educated merchant family in Moscow and were educated at home.1 At some point they came to the attention of the influential littérateurs B. K. Blank and V. S. Podshivalov, both of whom belonged to N. M. Karamzin’s circle.2 It will be recalled that Podshivalov had also been instrumental in publishing the work of the Svin’ina sisters, while Blank was a literary supporter (and nephew) of the accomplished poet Anna Bunina. Unusual among women at the time, the Moskvina sisters published not just a poem here or there, but an entire collection of verse. 1. With the notable exceptions of Lomonosov and Trediakovsky, most eighteenth-century Russian writers came from the nobility (dvorianstvo); by the end of the century nobles comprised about 2 percent of the Russian population, and were the primary contributors to modern Russian culture because they could afford a solid European-style education as well as the leisure time to write. Those engaged in economic endeavors other than agriculture were grouped within the merchantry, one of the soslovie, or legal estates, that made up Russian society. The elite layer of the merchantry, to which the Moskvina sisters belonged, would develop into a powerful and wealthy social force in the late nineteenth century. As Thomas C. Owen notes, “from the early eighteenth century to the end of the imperial period, the merchant estate included not only wholesale and retail traders but also persons whose membership in a merchant guild entitled them to perform other economic functions as well, such as mining, manufacturing, shipping, and banking.” Owen, “Merchants,” Encyclopedia of Russian History, ed. James R. Millar, vol. 3 (New York: Macmillan Reference, 2004) 916. The publication of Aonia by these apparently well-educated and refined young women offers an interesting glimpse into the early stages of what would become a major social force in late imperial Russia—the wealthy and educated merchant class. 2. Russkie pisateli, 1800–1917: Biograficheskii slovar’, vol. 4, s.v. “Moskvina, Mariia Osipovna.” Makarov includes a brief essay on Maria Moskvina in his series on women writers: “Mariia Osipovna Moskvina,” 6–9. The Moskvina sisters are mentioned only in passing in a few other dictionaries and catalogues (Golitsyn, Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 175; Barker and Gheith, History of Women’s Writing in Russia, 339) and do not appear at all in the Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII or Ledkovsky’s Dictionary of Russian Women Writers. B. K. Blank’s role as publisher of the Moskvina sisters’ Aonia is confirmed by the entry on Blank in the dictionary of eighteenth-century Russian writers: Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Blank, Boris Karlovich,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=564.

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424 Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina The poems presented here originally appeared in their 1802 volume entitled Aonia, or A Collection of Works from the Misses ***. Apparently, a second volume was planned, but never issued. As with the Svin’ina and Magnitskaia sisters before them, the vague attribution of the title makes determining the authorship of individual poems difficult. Of the two sisters, only Maria’s authorship has been attested, with questions remaining about whether Elizaveta in fact contributed to the volume at all. It has been noted that Elizaveta had long been married by the time of publication, thus hardly qualifying as one of the “misses” referred to in the title.3 Aonia opens with a preface by B. K. Blank and contains wellintentioned but condescending remarks: “Many have wished to see in print the poems of the Misses  ***. Their wish has been fulfilled. This first book is being issued—and I flatter myself with the hope that lovers of Russian poetry will greet it favorably and will forgive these first attempts.”4 M. N. Makarov, who was friends with Blank and likely knew the sisters personally, echoes that same spirit of benevolent criticism, noting that the women were educated only by “nature’s primer” and thus should be forgiven the inconsistent quality of their verse.5 In fact, the Moskvina sisters’ poems not only are highly accomplished, but also depart from the work of their male colleagues in revealing intimate details about their lives: family relationships, death, illness, and artistic inspiration. While the identity of the infant Hope [Nadezhda] in the first poem, “To Little Hope,” cannot be confirmed with certainty, she may well have been the daughter of the third Moskvina sister, Nadezhda (Nadia) Osipovna, thus the author’s niece. As discussed in the volume introduction, the epitaph was considered a middle genre and did not 3. Russkie pisateli, 1800–1917: Biograficheskii slovar’, s.v. “Moskvina, Mariia Osipovna, “140. That dictionary notes that Makarov incorrectly identified Elizaveta’s husband as a wellknown doctor, E. O. Mukhin, explaining that it was a third Moskvina sister, Nadia Osipovna (1768–1830) who married Mukhin. According to Evseeva (“Moskvina, Mariia Osipovna”), Elizaveta in fact married Tula steel factory magnate I. R. Batashev no later than 1782. Thus, Elizaveta would have been married for twenty years by the time Aonia was published in 1802. 4. B. K. Blank, “Predislovie,” Aoniia ili sobranie stikhotvorenii. sochinenie Gzh***, ed. Boris K. Blank (Moscow: Universitetskaia tipografiia, 1802), 3. 5. Makarov, “Mariia Osipovna Moskvina,” 9.

Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina 425 adhere to a fixed metrical pattern or stanzaic structure. Although the genre remained fairly uncommon with Russian women writers, it was becoming increasingly popular toward the end of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. In “Hope,” the epitaph reveals new possibilities for women; presenting an opportunity to display philosophical introspection through the lens of their personal experiences in the domestic sphere. The original poem is composed in iambic hexameter with an obligatory caesura and alternating masculine and feminine rhymes. At its core, the poem plays on the word “hope” (nadezhda). The infant named Hope occasions meditation on the nature of hope.6 Like “Hope,” the much longer poem “The Deathbed” (Smertnyi odr) appears drawn from personal grief. Here the poet struggles physically and spiritually with illness, ultimately confronting her own imminent death. The basic philosophical position may be reminiscent of Kheraskova’s spiritual verse of the 1760s, but now it is highly particularized. This sort of personalized contemplation echoes the changes not just in women’s writing, but in Russian literature more generally, as poetry moved away from abstract Classical imagery and edifying messages celebrating the great age of Catherine, toward more somber, tearful, and intimate reflections on mortality. Still, as common as such self-focus was becoming for men, it surely risked seeming inappropriate for women. After all, women were supposed to be modest and selfless caretakers. Ideal feminine selflessness further implied that women should not complain about their lot. Here too, “The Deathbed” marks an exception. As Wendy Rosslyn notes, this poem “gives the lie to Sentimental pictures of the virtuous woman meeting death with serene acceptance.”7 Instead, the poet records her anguish and intense fear as death approaches. In keeping with the general breakdown of genres toward the end of the eighteenth century, “The Deathbed” offers no explicit genre marker. It is composed in iambic hexameter with 6. Interestingly, Derzhavin published an epitaph by this same title, “Hope” (Nadezhda), eight years later. As Baehr notes, in addition to the personal circumstances occasioning this poem—the death of his niece, Hope (Nadezhda)—the poem comments more generally on the death of hope in people’s lives. Baehr argues that the poem reflects a move away from the optimism of the Catherinean era; a realization that “the golden age on earth is dead.” See Baehr, Paradise Myth in Russian Culture, 148. 7. Rosslyn, “Making Their Way into Print,” 134.

426 Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina couplets of alternating feminine and masculine rhyme. The iambic hexameter was an enormously popular meter not only for the elegy but for a range of genres in eighteenth-century Russia. After these elegiac meditations on illness and death, the remaining three poems included in this volume offer some relief. “To Three-Year-Old Mashenka” (K Mashin’ke, trekhletnei ditiati), like “Hope,” expresses intense love for a female child. But the contrast is sharp. This time the author dotes on her healthy and boisterous threeyear-old niece. The poem is written in a folksy trochaic tetrameter with alternating feminine and masculine couplets. The Russian text brims over with the kind of affectionate diminutives that are often impossible to convey in English, but are natural to Russian speech, especially in the language adults use with children. Even the title, “Mashenka,” is a diminutive, an affectionate form of the name Maria. As mentioned in the volume introduction, “Epigram” (Epigramma) marks an unusual step toward satire. The poet at once satirizes the frivolity of young women who quarrel over fashion and the prevailing male system of honor, which led to duels. All this is a lighthearted joke for sure, but one that shows women enjoying the same right as men to caricature daily life as they knew it. The poem is written in iambic hexameter with alternating feminine and masculine rhymed couplets. Finally, “The Gallery” (Gallereia), although not explicitly biographical, raises questions about the Moskvina sisters’ lives. Here the author recounts her sense of awe upon stepping into a newly built gallery, where she overhears a young woman at the piano. The author’s footnotes offer clues to the people and places involved. The first simply documents that the poem was written in 1801, thus a year before it was published in Aonia. The second footnote identifies the piano player as a “female student of Mr. Hässler.” Moskvina surely has in mind Johann Hässler (1747–1822), a talented pianist, composer, and one of the best known artists in Moscow at that time.8 Hässler had arrived in Russia in 1792. After a couple of years in St. Petersburg, he moved to Moscow, where he remained for the rest of his life. Another 8. Findeizin, History of Music in Russia from Antiquity to 1800, S2: 124. Basic information on Hässler can also be found in Grove Music Online/Oxford Music Online, s.v. “Hässler, Johann Wilhelm,” at http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/12526.

Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina 427 poem in the volume, ‘To Hässler’ [K Gesleru] clearly indicates that one of the Moskvina sisters herself studied with him, as she recalls, “when you taught me, I rapturously/ Listened to your playing.”9 As for the location itself, this “gallery,” with its neoclassical murals, glittering mosaics, and elaborate chandeliers, might have been located in any number of wealthy homes in Moscow. Since the era of Catherine the Great, these richly decorated spaces for social gatherings, music, and art had become de rigueur in aristocratic and wealthy merchant homes.10 The precise location of Moskvina’s gallery may be unspecified, but the poem’s uplifting message is quite accessible: Throughout, the poet rapturously describes the aesthetic impact on her ears and eyes occasioned by her visit to the gallery. She thus demonstrates women’s sensibility to art. By emphasizing the gender of the overheard pianist, she further hints at new possibilities for women not just as sensitive appreciators, but also as artistic creators in their own right. The original poem proceeds in iambic tetrameter (which was gaining on the hexameter as the most popular meter) with alternating feminine and masculine rhymes.11

9. Moskvina, Aoniia, 58. 10. The gallery Moskvina describes aligns with the vogue for Palladianism in Russia, which began with Charles Cameron’s work at Tsarskoe selo in the 1770s and continued for another three decades. For an overview of Palladianism in Russia, see Brumfield, History of Russian Architecture, 278–85, 304–35. Brumfield (335) emphasizes that such elaborate architectural statements were not unique to aristocratic homes; they were also built for “wealthy Moscow merchants who, although limited in social privilege in comparison with the nobility, were able to flaunt their wealth with the building of such residences.” Thus, Moskvina could easily be describing a newly built gallery in her own home. 11. For an overview of the versatile and increasingly popular iambic tetrameter, see Scherr, Russian Poetry, 45–52.

428 Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina Эпитафия. Надежиньке, жившей только пять часов Ломчее хрусталя и тонее воды Надеждой щастие основано бывает;— Лишь хочешь ты взойти на щастливы следы, Оно ломается, и тотчас изчезает. Надежда родилась полночи в два часа, Лишь крестна маминька пришла и приласкала— Она готовилась взнестись на небеса; У утра в семь часов—я слезы проливала. Смертный одр Уж полночь!—два часа так косвенно пробило.— На небе мрак— и все спокойно, тихо было, Казалось, в мертвенность Природа облеклась; Ничто не слышимо, ни звук, ни шум, ни глас, Лишь мой единный стон в покоях раздавался, И тусклый свет огня едва в глазах мелькался. Ужь третья ночь, как я со смертию борюсь, Болезнью мучима, я горестью томлюсь; А бдящие о мне, трудами отягченны, Лежат повержены, Природой усыпленны; Иль преклонясь сидят у ложа моего, Смежил их очи сон, не внемлют ничего. Сладчайший оный сон меня уж убегает, Мне сутки целыя глаза он не смыкает. Одна—часы в руках, глядеть стараюсь их, Но не могу, лишь стук я чувствую от них В трепещущей руке которой раздавался С биеньем слабых жил, и в сердце отзывался: Минута каждая казалась мне за час— Минута, что к концу торопит ближе нас. Страданья смертнаго мне память оставляя, Парил мой дух везде, и всё мне представляя, Вообразил он смерть во ужасе моем:— О! Сколь она страшна в событии своем!

Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina 429 Epitaph. To Little Hope, Who Lived Only Five Hours1 More fragile than crystal and more subtle than water, Happiness is based on Hope2— Just when you wish to soar along the traces of happiness, It breaks and instantly vanishes. Hope was born in the middle of the night, at two o’clock. Just as her godmother arrived and cuddled her— She prepared to rise to the heavens.3 And at seven o’clock in the morning I was shedding tears. The Deathbed Dead of night—the bell struck twice toward midnight. The sky was dark, and all was calm and quiet. Nature itself took on a deathly shape. Nothing—not a sound, not a noise, not a voice—was audible. Only my moaning resounded in these chambers And the fire’s dim light barely flashed in my eyes. Already for a third night I struggled with death. Tormented by illness, I languished in grief. But those who watched over me, burdened by their labors, Lay overcome, lulled to sleep by Nature; Or else they sat kneeling by my bed. Sleep had closed their eyes; nothing did they hear. That sweet sleep eluded me. For days and nights on end my eyes did not close. Alone—a clock in my hands. I tried to glance at it, but was unable. I felt only its ticking in my trembling hand To which my weak heartbeat responded. Each minute seemed an hour— A minute that hurries us closer to the end. My spirit soared everywhere, reminding me of mortal suffering And showing me everything. To my horror, it depicted death. Oh, how frightening is death when it arrives!

430 Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina В какой бы века год она ни посетила, Хоть твердым сердцем нас Природа наградила, Ужасна ночь сия дала мне познавать, Любезные друзья! Сколь страшно умирать!— Обильным током слез я ложе обливала, В Творце моем Отца кротчайша представляла. Спускаясь мыслями в сердечну глубину, Старалась обрести надежну тишину, Что милостиво Он десницу простирает, Оставить мрачный дом душе повелевает; Что тонка часть сия на небо воспарит, К подножию Его престола прелетит; Прошедши горести житейски позабудет, Что терпим с юности, того уж там не будет.— С тех пор, как стала я себя лишь познавать, Познала я, что мы родилася—страдать; Минуты радости—унынья целы годы, И к вечности текут как быстры речны воды: Во все теченье их есть долг наш—чтить Творца; Окончивши свой век—увидеть в нем отца.— Десятеричная скрыжаль нам изсеченна, Хоть по возможности на сердце сохраненна; Но всё ужасен час, коль живо ощутить, Что близок нам конец, и скоро, может быть, Должны отдать ответ во всех своих деяньях.— Как можно то снести при многих состраданьях!— Против желания вселяется в нас страх.— О! Ктоб из смертных мог один хоть сделать шаг, И сделавши его, наверно похвалиться, Что мог он целой век разумен находиться? Хотяб и был такой, хотя бы то имел, Но видя близку смерть, он в трепет бы пришел.— Я руки слабыя на небо простирала, Принять мой с миром дух Творца я умоляла; Иль взор на слабое созданье обратить, Коли достойна жить, страданье отвратить, От мысли сей душа покоем услаждалась,

Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina 431 For whatever our age when she visits, And though Nature has granted us firm hearts, That terrible night made me understand, Dear friends, how frightening it is to die! An abundant stream of tears I spilled upon my bed. I imagined my Creator as a most gentle father. In my mind I descended to the depths of my heart And tried to attain a lasting silence, That He might mercifully extend his right hand and Bid my soul abandon its gloomy home; That this subtle part might soar toward heaven And fly all the way to the foot of His throne; That it might forget this life’s former sorrow, Which we endure from our youth—for there it will no longer exist. Since I first began to understand myself, I realized that we are born to suffer. Minutes of joy, entire years of despair — And they flow like rapid rivers toward eternity. In their current resides our duty—to honor the Creator; Having completed our time on earth—to see in Him a father. The tablet’s Ten Commandments were carved for us. Though we keep them safe in our hearts as best we can, ’Tis still frightening to sense clearly That the end is near and that at any moment We will be called to answer for all our actions. How can we bear that thought amidst such suffering and woe? Despite ourselves, we are struck with fear. O, who among us can take even a single step, And, having taken it, confidently boast That he can always behave so prudently? Even if such a man existed, He too would tremble upon death’s approach. I stretched my frail arms toward heaven. I begged the Creator to either receive my spirit in peace4 Or turn His gaze upon his frail creation And, if he deemed her worthy of living, to repel this suffering. My soul found peace in this thought.

432 Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina Телесная болезнь с душевною сравнялась, И дав мне несколько свободнее дышать, Не столь страшилась я, не стала унывать. Заснувших крепким сном я стоном разбудила, Уведомить меня, которой час, просила. Сказали: пятой час: Ужь время бы послать, В страдании моем мне помощи искать. Заботливо тогда я время разделяла, Казалось, все шаги я в мыслях изчисляла.— Ктоб в свете то ни был нещастной человек, Ктоб в горестях однех провел свой целой век; Казалось бы, что смерть была ему отрадой, За все страдания спокойствием, наградой; Но—жизнь свою продлить он всё бы пожелал, И от врачей своих всей помощи искал. — О сила, данная Природой, непонятна! Влекуща к жизни нас, хотя она превратна.— Когда бы ни было—всё должно умереть, Прейти ничтожество, безсмертие узреть.— О смерть! Небесный дар, спокойствия начало! Ты благодетель всех, хоть остро твое жало. И чтоб в последний час спокойство сохранить, То надобно всегда правдиво в свете жить.— К Машиньке трехлетней дитяти Машинька моя играет И писать теперь мешает. Страстно я ее люблю!— Что не делает, терплю. Смотрит нежно и умильно, Восхищает душу сильно; Ручкой шею обовьет, Тётя мила! Назовет. Весела она, любезна, Грудка полная, прелестна, Щечки аленьки у ней,

Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina 433 My physical suffering began to match that of my spirit And, able to breathe a bit more freely, I was not so afraid and no longer despaired. With my moaning I woke those who had fallen into a deep sleep And asked them to tell me the hour. They said it was past four o’clock: high time to send For someone to help me in my suffering. At that moment I was carefully marking time; I drew out each and every moment in my head. He who is unhappy upon this earth, He who has passed his whole life in nothing but sorrow— For him, it might seem, death would bring Joy and serenity; a reward for all that suffering. But no—he would still wish to prolong his life And would seek every treatment from his doctors. O, unfathomable is that force of Nature Which draws us to life, however false it might be! At some point everything must die, Overcome nothingness, and behold immortality. O death! Divine gift! Fount of serenity! You are our benefactor, though your sting is sharp. If we are to preserve serenity in that final hour, We must always live righteously in this world. To Three-Year-Old Mashenka My little Mashenka5 plays And now keeps me from writing. I love her passionately! Whatever she does, I am patient. She watches tenderly and affectionately And utterly delights my soul. She winds her little arm around my neck. “Dear aunt!” she calls. She is cheerful, sweet, Charming, with a little chubby chest. She has little crimson cheeks.

434 Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina Глазки молнии сильней, Ручки толсто-налитыя, У Купидо лишь такия; Кудри виснут на плечах, Будто розы на лозах;— Их Природа завивала, Всюду нежность сохраняла. Коль захочет поплясать, Ножкой станет подвигать, Затопочет, закружится, Будто Ангел веселится; В ручках фартучком трясет, Прыгает, сама поет. Голосок у ней любезной, Звонкой, тонкой и прелестной.— Все приятности есть в ней, Спорят Грации все с ней.— О малютка дорогая! Нежно с куклами играя, Нашу жизнь ты услаждай, Чувства трогай и питай. Тётинька сама резвиться Любит, с вами веселиться; Бросивши перо—лечу, И играть с тобой хочу. Эпиграмма Обижена тобой любезная подруга, Подруга, кою я имела вместо друга! Но узел дружбы что могло так перервать?— По вкусу не могла я банта ей связать, И дружба через бант прости— прости на веки!— Но чтожь за диво то?—друзья вить человеки.

Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina 435 Her little eyes are brighter than lightning; Her little hands fleshy-plump. Only Cupid has the like. Curls hang upon her shoulders Like roses upon a vine— Nature has wound them And preserved tenderness all around. If she wishes to dance, She begins to move her little leg. She gives a tap and spins around Like an angel making merry. She shakes her pinafore in her little hands, Hops, and sings. Her little voice is sweet, Clear, delicate, enchanting— Every charm resides in her. She rivals all the Graces.6 O dear little child, Playing tenderly with your dolls, Sweeten our lives! Touch and nourish our hearts! Auntie herself loves To frolic and make merry with you. Having thrown down my pen—I hasten— I wish to play with you. Epigram You’ve offended me, dear friend; The friend I had in place of a suitor! But what could tear asunder the bonds of friendship? I could not tie her kerchief according to her taste. And friendship over a kerchief7—farewell, farewell forever! Well, what’s so extraordinary? After all, friends are human too.

436 Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina Галлерея*1 Прекрасна нова Галлерея! Как скоро я в тебя взошла, Представилась глазам алея— Мне мнилось, я в Пафос пришла. Стояла долго изумленна— Сама не знала, что начать; Была как будто вдохновенна, И легче стала я дышать. Казалось, веял ветерочик, И все деревья колебал; Там всякой трепетал листочик, Приятный запах издавал. Там горды дубы возвышались, Там пальма нежная цвела; С аллей кедры соплетались, Их мирта чудно обвила. Румяная заря мелькала Сквозь сей священный лес густой, На стенке волны рисовала Отливом люстры золотой; Трава амврозией дышала, И сладостный носился дух; Сама Природа изпещряла Зелено-бархатный сей луг. Под тенью мраморныя двери Волшебная кисть провела; По сторонам огни блестели От разноцветнаго стекла. Два нежные Амура свили Снурок из радужных цветов, Фонарь на оный прицепили, Повесили меж облаков. Зелено-изумрудны стали Древа от блеску фонаря; * Расписано в 1801 году [author’s footnote].

Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina 437 The Gallery‡2 New gallery! How beautiful you are! As soon as I entered A tree-lined walk appeared before me— It seemed I had arrived in Paphos.8 I long stood amazed, Myself not knowing what to undertake. I was as if inspired And began to breathe more freely. It seemed a light wind blew And swayed all the trees. There every little leaf quivered And released pleasant fragrance. There proud oaks rose up. There a tender palm bloomed. Cedars were interwoven with aloe and Myrtle marvelously entwined them. The rosy dawn glimmered Through this sacred dense forest And drew waves upon the wall With the golden chandelier’s glow. The grass breathed Ambrosia;9 Its sweet perfume drifted. Nature herself dappled This meadow velvety green. In the shade stood marble doors Over which an enchanted brush had passed. Along the sides shone fires Of multicolored glass. Two tender cupids wove A chain of rainbow hues. They attached a lantern And hung it amidst the clouds. The trees were emerald green From the lantern’s glow. ‡ Written in 1801 [author’s footnote].

438 Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina Сапфиры, яхонты играли С лучем, пылая и горя.— Внезапно слух мой поражает Музыка, с гласом съединясь; Сей строй меня обворожает,— Стою я больше поразясь. Мне мнилось, тут Орфея слышу Безсмертна, с лирой в руках; Но смертну Грациию я вижу Во всех блестящих красотах. Фортепияно безподобно Звучал под перстами ея; Достойно славна Виртуоза†3 Ученье слышно было тут— Собой прекрасна, будто роза (Чай Музы ей венок плетут). Прелестны Грации гуляли В обвороженном храме сем, Красой своею придавали Оне еще блеск больший в нем. Все нежной дружбою дышали— Мир воцарился здесь давно; Восторги, радости играли, Все вместе мыслили одно: Пребуди вечно совершенство, Какое зрится здесь во всем.

† В этот раз действилтельно играла на фортепияно ученица Г. Геслера [author’s footnote].

Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina & Maria Osipovna Moskvina 439 Sapphires and rubies played With its beam, blazing and burning. And suddenly music with voice accompaniment Astounded my ears. The pitch enchanted me— I stood there, all the more astounded. It seemed I heard the immortal Orpheus,10 A lyre in his hands. But ’twas a mortal Grace I saw In all her shining beauty. The piano sounded superb Beneath her fingers. The lesson I heard there Was worthy of a glorious virtuoso.11§4 ’Twas beautiful, like a rose. (The Muses surely weave her a wreath). Charming Graces12 wandered About this enchanting temple; Their beauty lent It even greater luster. Everyone breathed tender friendship— Peace was established here long ago; Delights and joys were playing. Together everyone thought of one and the same thing: Let the perfection we see in everything here Remain forever.

§ At that time a female student of Mr. Hässler truly was playing the piano [author’s footnote].

Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova (dates unknown) Introduction Almost nothing remains of Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova’s life and legacy beyond her verse collection, The Country Lyre, or Hours of Solitude (Derevenskaia lira ili chasy uedineniia), published in Moscow in 1817.1 A few details can be found in the memoirs of Ivan Mikhailovich Dolgorukov, to whom she dedicated her volume.2 We know, for example, that Bolotnikova was married and lived in Orel Province, about a hundred miles south of Moscow. Doubly marginalized as a provincial and a woman, she had no direct contact or support from the cultural circles of Moscow and St. Petersburg. Indeed, according to Dolgorukov, Bolotnikova acted with inappropriate boldness in sending him her work unsolicited.3 Thus, she hardly conforms to the accepted Sentimental model of the female poet, a model that she nonetheless attempts to follow in her preface, presented below. As Ursula Stohler suggests, it may be precisely Bolotnikova’s distance from the centers of Russian Sentimentalism, with their confining notions of proper women’s themes and proper

1. Several nineteenth-century sources mention Bolotnikova in passing, but she does not appear in any of the more recent dictionaries and encyclopedias of Russian women. Indeed, she had disappeared from the scholarship completely until Ursula Stohler’s 2005 dissertation on the topic. See also Stohler’s article on Bolotnikova, “Released from Her Fetters?” For early references to Bolotnikova, see Golitsyn, Bibliograficheskii slovar’, 29; and Russov, Biograficheskii katalog, 7 2. The poet and intellectual Ivan Mikhailovich Dolgorukov (sometimes referred to as Dolgorukii), was the brother of the poet Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova, whose poems appear in this volume. For background on Dolgorukov, see Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Dolgorukov, Ivan Mikhailovich,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/ Default.aspx?tabid=786. Sadly, despite Bolotnikova’s devotion to Dolgorukov, it seems the feeling may not have been mutual. Stohler notes that Bolotnikova was mocked by other writers during a literary gathering at Dolgorukov’s home. Only thanks to that account are we able to confirm such basic details as her patronymic. See Stohler, “Released from Her Fetters?” n. 18. 3. See Stohler, “Mariia Pospelova, Mariia Bolotnikova, and Anna Naumova,” 135.

441

442 Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova role as muse that permitted her to proceed so freely in her personal interactions and in her poetry.4 Although strictly speaking a nineteenth-century writer, Bolotnikova responds to the trends of late eighteenth-century Russian Sentimentalism, thus providing a glimpse into the state of the woman question at the turn of the century. She reveals a growing awareness and anger at the subservient role of women in domestic and cultural circles. Like Murzina’s 1799 “To My Readers,” Bolotnikova condemns men’s denigration of women and the hypocrisy of their purported worship of the feminine. Both the poems presented here serve as a retort—one veiled and the other explicit—to N. M. Karamzin’s 1795 “An Epistle to Women” (Poslanie k zhenshchinam).5 To be sure, Bolotnikova’s “A Reproach to Men” (Uprek mushchinam) never alludes to Karamzin. Written in a brisk iambic trimeter with alternating feminine and masculine rhyme, the “Reproach” nonetheless confronts core assumptions of male Sentimentalist rhetoric found in his “Epistle.” As Stohler persuasively argues, Bolotnikova here dismisses Christian beliefs about women as responsible for original sin and employs the political discourse of natural law to reframe discussion of women’s place in Russian society.6 Bolotnikova’s “Response to ‘An Epistle to Women’” (Otvet na poslanie k zhenshchinam), at once highlights and obscures the connection to Karamzin’s “Epistle.” Her title and numerous references throughout allude directly to Karamzin’s writing. Yet other lines make no sense at all if we accept Karamzin as the target. For example, in the author’s note she indicates that the epistle in question had not yet been published, whereas Karamzin’s poem had appeared almost two decades earlier. Similarly, in the poem itself she refers to the author of the “Epistle” as a “knight” (rytsar’) and references his idealization of family life, neither of which makes sense in the context of Karamzin’s poem. Ursula Stohler argues that perhaps Bolotnikova deliberately throws readers off the scent, because as a woman she wanted to avoid 4. Ibid., 156. 5. Karamzin, Polnoe sobranie stikhotvorenii, 169–79, http://www.rvb.ru/18vek/karamzin/ 1bp/01text/01text/081.htm. 6. Stohler, “Released from Her Fetters?” 11–12.

Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova 443 such “unfeminine” polemicizing with a renowned litterateur.7 An overlooked source for Bolotnikova’s “knight” is an 1802 tale by Karamzin, A Knight of Our Time (Rytsar’ nashego vremeni). This short story, published with the promise of a continuation that never appeared, does indeed paint an idyllic vision of life in the countryside. In a light bantering tone the narrator recounts the story of noble young Leon’s upbringing in a provincial backwater. It concludes with Leon’s sexual curiosity getting the better of him as he peeks at a young countess bathing, an episode complicated by the fact that she had been acting as a surrogate mother to him. Perhaps more to the point of Bolotnikova’s complaints, A Knight of Our Time contains a lengthy passage on the foibles of society women. The playful narration notwithstanding, Karamzin offers a mocking appraisal of women’s vanity and silliness.8 Bolotnikova’s “Response” is written in the popular iambic tetrameter with alternating feminine and masculine rhymes.

7. Ibid., 14. 8. Karamzin, Izbrannye proizvedeniia v dvukh tomakh, 1:755–82, http://rvb.ru/18vek/ karamzin/2hudlit_/01text/vol1/02stories/09.htm. Thanks to Maia Rigas for calling my attention to this work as a possible source for Bolotnikova.

444 Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova Предисловие Решившись напечатать слабыя мои творения, я не имела в виду угодить ни свету, где много находится Гениев во всяком роде, ни публике отечественной, где одним великим, просвещенным умам предоставлено пожинать лавры, но небольшому обществу друзей, разделяющих участь мою—друзей, которые одно со мною чувствуют— одно со мною мыслят. Их—то желание—их усильная прозьба заставлять меня предстать почтенной публике в таком виде, в каком до сих пор еще никто не являлся—с недостатками свойственными слабому и неопытному разсудку.— Если сия книжка попадется в руки читателя просвещеннаго, умеющаго плавно и прятно изъяснить мысли— читателя владеющаго Гением: прошу его несудить обо мне так, как судят опытные и образованные критики. Кто знает, что с самаго детства не имела другаго наставника, кроме чтения сочинений почтеннейшаго К. И. Долгорукова; Тот конечно не станет требовать, чтобы в стихах моих соблюдены были красота и выразительность пиитическим творениям свойственныя. Привыкши жить в кругу искренних друзей моих, я писала то, что чувствовало мое сердце—писала просто, как только может писать обитательница деревни.— В прочем я надеюсь, что друзья истинно, меня любящие, будут читать творения мои с таким же душевным расположением—с таким же сердечным участием, с каким читали оныя, находяся в уединенном моем домике.—Угодить им—я почитала священным моим долгом. И потому их одобрение— будет навсегда для меня самою лестною и лучшею наградою.

Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova 445 Preface1 Having decided to publish my feeble works, I did not intend to please either society, where there are many geniuses of every kind, nor the domestic public, where only great and enlightened minds are fit to earn laurels; but rather only the small society of my friends who share my same lot—friends who feel and think as I do. ’Twas their wish— their fervent request that compelled me to present them to our respected public in such a state as has never before been seen—with all the insufficiencies characteristic of a weak and inexperienced mind. If this book should fall into the hands of an enlightened reader who is able to smoothly and pleasantly interpret my thoughts—  a reader of genius—then I ask him not to judge me as educated and experienced critics judge. Anyone who understands that from my very childhood I had no other teacher than the compositions of our most respected Prince I. Dolgorukov will not require that the beauty and expressiveness natural to poetic creation be observed in my verses. Accustomed to living in the circle of my true friends, I wrote what my heart felt—I wrote simply, as only a denizen of the countryside could do. Moreover, I hope that friends who truly love me will read my works with just the same kind of favor and genuine sympathy as when they read them in my secluded little house. I considered it my sacred duty to please them. And thus their approbation will always be for me the best and most flattering reward.

446 Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova Упрек мущинам Какое преступленье Соделал женский пол, Что вечно в заключеньи Он страждет от оков?— Природа— мать правдива; Ко всем она равна. Почто же мысль кичлива К вам в голову взошла? Что будто бы возможно Одним вам чудеса творить?— Но нам зачто же должно Капризы переносить? Природа сотворила Защитниками вас, И вам определила, Покоить только нас. Пристрастно же толкуя Ея Святой закон, Над нами торжествуя Вы заглушаете наш стон. Нет! лучше перестаньте Нас бедных обижать. Сердечной пожелайте К нам дружбою дышать. Тогда сама природа Лелеить будет вас; Тогда-то милая свобода Утешит в скуке нас.

Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova 447 A Reproach to Men What crime Has the female sex committed That, eternally imprisoned, She suffers in chains? Nature is a just mother; She treats everyone the same. How could such an arrogant thought Enter your head That only you Could create wonders? And why must we Put up with your whims?2 Nature made you Our defenders And appointed you only To cherish us. Prejudicially interpreting Her Sacred law, Triumphing over us, You stifle our groans. No! Better that you cease Offending us poor women. Wish to show us True friendship! Then Nature herself Will pamper you. And then sweet liberty Will comfort us in our boredom.

448 Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova Ответ на послание к женщинам* 1 Когда бы все так почитали Наградой женщин от небес; То меньше б в свете мы страдали И каждый свой имел бы вес. Тогда б напасти удалились От сердца нежнаго на век;— Восторги б, радости явились, Вкушал бы щастье человек. Блаженству не было в препоны; Достичь бы всяк желал сильней Не почестей земных, короны, Но что бы милой быть милей. Но ах! не в то живет мы время,— Любовь сокрылася в лесах;— И мы напастей, бедствий бремя Всегда зрим в новых чудесах … .— Так! Женщину щитают Рулеткой на земном шару; Сего дни дерзостно ругают, А завтра вознесут—в жару— В жару и Олтари нам строят, Названье Ангелов дают; Клянутся, в страсти пылкой ноят, Источник даже слез лиют. Но лишь подунул ветерочик; Погас огонь уж страстный весь, * Г. Сочинитель еще не издал в свет своего творения под заглавмем: Послание к женщинам. В сем послании видеть можно лесть в высшей степени. Оно начинается так: «Женщин милых в свет рожденье/ Есть награда от богов»—и проч [author’s footnote].

Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova 449 A Response to “An Epistle to Women”†2 If all people considered Women a heavenly reward, Then we would suffer less in this world And each of us would hold significance. Then misfortunes would retreat From tender hearts forever— Delights and joys would appear. Humankind would enjoy happiness. There would be no obstacles to bliss. Each of us would wish most Not for earthly honors or crowns, But to be even sweeter to our sweetheart. But, alas! We do not live in such an age. Love has hidden away in the forest. And amidst new wonders We always behold the burden of misfortune and woe … That’s the way it is! In this world women are treated Like a game of roulette. Today they impudently scold us— Tomorrow fervently they raise us up. Fervently they build altars to us. They call us Angels. They make vows; they whine with burning passion. They shed whole rivers of tears. But as soon as a light wind blows, Then passion’s flames are extinguished, † Mr. Author has not yet published his work entitled “An Epistle to Women.” In that epistle one finds the highest degree of flattery. It begins like this: “The birth of sweet women/Is a gift from the Gods,” etc. [author’s footnote].

450 Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova Как будто резвой матылиочек В долине скрылся и изчез— Потом к другой с таким же тоном Стремится в сети заманить; С плачевным, жалким сердца стоном Всю жизнь ей хочет посвятить.— Но коль невинная решится Коварным сим словам внимать; Пошла страдать, пошла крутиться, Конца печалям не видать!— Не лучше ль у мущин учиться Взаимно тем же тоном петь, Чтоб было нечего страшиться? От легковерия терпеть.— Не много смертных здесь найдется, Могущих щастье ощущать.— В посланьи рыцарь … . . признается, Что можно оное сыскать. В объятиях супруги милой, В кругу малюточек своих, Где можно жить лишь дружбы силой И исполнять свой долг для них. Едва ли точно, не притворно Свое он мненье написал; Пристрастья вижу я довольно, Хотя он клятвой подтверждал. Что женщин точно почитает Священной связью меж людей, Их Ангелам предпочитает; Страшусь поверить лести сей!—

Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova 451 As if a frisky little moth3 Had stolen away into the valley and vanished. Then, with the same tone He aims to lure another girl into his trap. With a sad pitiful moan of the heart He wishes to dedicate his whole life to her. If the innocent girl decides To heed these cunning words, She’s off to suffer; she’s off to grieve, Never to see the end of sorrows! Would it not be better to learn from men? To reciprocate, singing in the same tone, So that we might have nothing to fear? Nothing to endure from our credulity? Here you’ll not find many people Who can experience happiness. In his epistle the knight *** declares That it can be found In the embraces of one’s sweet wife; In the company of one’s children; Where one can live by the power of friendship alone And fulfill one’s duties to them. ’Twas hardly correct or without deception, That opinion he composed. I saw quite a bit of prejudice, Though he vowed That he viewed women precisely As a sacred link among people. He prefers them to Angels. I am afraid to believe this flattery.

452 Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova Вот что-то изстари зовется— Вот смысл пословицы моей: Огнем кто больно обожжется, Тот будет дуть и на людей.—

Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova 453 Here’s something from days of yore; Here’s the meaning of my proverb: Anyone who has been burnt by fire Will start to blow on people too.4

Anna Petrovna Bunina (1774–1829) Introduction Anna Petrovna Bunina was largely forgotten until the 1970s but is now recognized as Russia’s first professional woman poet. Although her works truly belong to the nineteenth century, her widely anthologized poem, “Conversation between Me and the Women,” is included in this volume to celebrate the path paved by her predecessors. The poets in this volume set the stage for Bunina, whose rich and prolific oeuvre in turn prepared the way for her celebrated compatriots in the twentieth century. Indeed, the great twentieth-century poet Anna Akhmatova claimed Bunina as a literary (and hereditary) ancestor.1 Today, Bunina remains the only early Russian woman writer to garner serious scholarly attention, with articles and even a monograph devoted to her.2 Although primarily known as a poet, Bunina also authored a manual of poetics for young women, wrote prose, and worked as a translator. Bunina was born in January 1774 on her family estate in Riazan’ Province. Her mother had died giving birth to her. Although her father was still alive, she was essentially orphaned at the age of fourteen months when she was sent to live with her aunt. She spent her childhood shuttling back and forth from one set of relatives to another. Bunina apparently began writing verse at the age of thirteen and came to the notice of B. K. Blank, a relatively influential man of letters who was her nephew by marriage.3 In her article on Bunina’s development as a professional writer, Wendy Rosslyn notes the enormous sacrifices, financial and 1. “No one in my large family wrote poetry. But the first Russian woman poet, Anna Bunina, was the aunt of my grandfather Erasm Ivanovich Stogov.” Akhmatova, “Autobiographical Prose,” 6. 2. See Rosslyn, “Anna Bunina’s Unchaste Relationship,” 223–42, and her monograph, Anna Bunina. Rosslyn has also published a helpful overview of Bunina in Cornwell, Reference Guide to Russian Literature, 210–11. Marshall offers a thorough biographical sketch as a preface to a selection of translated poems in Tomei, Russian Women Writers, 43–53. 3. Rosslyn, “Anna Bunina’s Unchaste Relationship,” 231. Blank was the editor of the Moskvina sisters’ volume of poetry.

455

456 Anna Petrovna Bunina emotional, that Bunina made for her craft, and her resolve to not succumb to the expectations of society toward unmarried women: A motherless child until the age of twenty-seven, she lived in the homes of various benevolent relatives, but on the death of her father, a minor but affluent nobleman, she moved alone to St. Petersburg and devoted her entire inheritance (capital intended to provide an income of 600 rubles a year) to her education. In spite of her permanent poverty thereafter, she remained financially independent of her family (with whom she remained on good terms) even in extreme difficulty. Unmarried and without domestic responsibilities, she was able to make writing the central activity of her life.4 Through relatives in St. Petersburg, Bunina became acquainted with influential men of letters and, along with Ekaterina Urusova and Anna Volkova, was inducted into Admiral Shishkov’s illustrious Society of Lovers of the Russian Word.5 Although she frequented literary gatherings and was admired by male contemporaries (including Derzhavin), Bunina had to face the same kind of backhanded compliments and condescension as other female writers of her time. For example, the poet K. N. Batiushkov involved her in his polemic with the Shishkovites by famously killing her off in his satire “Vision on the Banks of the Lethe.”6 Indeed, her connection to Shishkov caused her to be targeted by N. M. Karamzin’s followers, including Russia’s revered national poet, Aleksander Pushkin. Bunina released her first book, a manual of poetics based on French aesthetician Charles Batteux, The Rules of Poetry (Pravila poezii) in 1808, followed a year later by her first collection of poetry, The Inexperienced Muse (Neopytnaia muza). She published numerous other poems across a range of genres, including the mock epic The Fall 4. Ibid., 230. 5. For Bunina and the Society of Lovers of the Russian Word, see Rosslyn, Anna Bunina, 69–77. 6. For this and a brief review of other such indignities, see Tomei, Russian Women Writers, 43–44.

Anna Petrovna Bunina 457 of Phaeton (Padenie Faetona; 1811), a couple of prose tales in Country Evenings (Sel’skie vechera; 1811), a volume of already published works (1819–21), and her final publication, a collection of translated sermons, Moral and Philosophical Talks: Selected from the Conversations of Dr. Blair (Nravstvennye i filosoficheskie beseda g. Blera) (1829). Bunina’s prolific career belies her fragile state of health beginning around 1812 until her death in 1829 from breast cancer. Thus, much of her work treats the theme of death and sorrow. In many poems, including the one presented here, Bunina confronts issues of gender, with a combination of resentment and playfulness. Her “Conversation between Me and the Women” reveals a resistance to being classified as merely another dilettante female poet writing on “feminine” themes for a genteel female audience.7 Instead, Bunina here reviews her rich literary career across a range of genres and insists that she will not sing about or for women. Whether intentionally or not, she reminds us of Urusova rejecting “feminine” genres in her poem to Kheraskov almost forty years earlier and Turchaninova chastising those who demanded she avoid the melancholy verse she preferred. A major difference, of course, is that even while resisting definitions of female poetry, Urusova actively aligned herself and supported her “Parnassian sisters.”8 Some things, of course, had not yet changed: at the end of the poem Bunina wryly notes that she has no choice but to avoid women, since men still hold all the power in the literary world. Scholars have discussed “Conversation between Me and the Women” with an eye to its treatment of gender and authority in Russian letters, but surprisingly little has been said about its noteworthy structure. The poem proceeds in variable iambs, a form that comprised a good 25 percent of all Russian verse in the eighteenth century, in spite of the fact that this is the only poem included in this volume that made use of this form. Male writers turned to variable verse in genres not well represented among female poets, including fables and, a bit later, plays. Bunina’s “Conversation” naturally turns to this form because the varying line lengths convey a sense of natural conversation.9 7. See Tomei, Russian Women Writers, 49–50. See also Rosslyn, Anna Bunina, 108–26. 8. See introduction to Urusova. 9. For a discussion of variable iambs in the eighteenth and nineteenth century, see Barry Scherr, Russian Poetry, 103–106. Sherr notes that poets made use of the varying line lengths

458 Anna Petrovna Bunina The rhyme scheme too bears mentioning. The poem opens with an almost sonnet-like structure of AbbAcdcdEEffGhGh, which it then repeats, but with masculine rhymes where there had been feminine, and vice versa. After that, the structure shifts to an irregular pattern of rhymed couplets interspersed with alternating and adjacent rhyme. All in all, Bunina uses the variable lines and dynamic rhyme scheme to convey a sense of playful mischief.

to “impart to their poetry some of the rhythm of ordinary speech” (106).

460 Anna Petrovna Bunina Разговор между мною и женщинами ЖЕНЩИНЫ Сестрица-душенька! какая радость нам! Ты стихотворица! на оды, причти, сказки, Различны у тебя готовы краски, И верно ближе ты по сердцу к похвалам. Мущины ж милая … Ах, Боже упаси! Язык,—как острый нож! В Париже, в Лондоне,—не только на Руси,— Везде равны! Заладят тож да тож: Одне ругательства,—и все страдают дамы! Ждем мадригалов мы,—читаем эпиграммы. От братцев, муженьков, от батюшков, сынков Не жди похвальных слов. Давно хотелось нам своей певицы! Поешь ли ты? Скажи иль да, иль нет. Я Да, да, голубушки-сестрицы! Хвала Всевышнему! пою уже пять лет. ЖЕНЩИНЫ И что пропела ты в те годы? Признаться Русскому не все мы учены; А русския писанья мудрены; Да, правда, нет на них теперь и моды. Я Пою природы я красы; Рогами месяц в воду ставлю; Счисляю капельки росы; Восход светила славлю; Лелею паства по лугам; Даю свирели пастушкам; Подругам их цветы вплетаю в косы, Как лен светловолосы:

Anna Petrovna Bunina 461 Conversation between Me and the Women1 WOMEN Sister-darling! What a joy for us! You are a poetess! For odes, fables, tales You have varied paints prepared And surely your heart inclines toward praise. For men, sweetheart … Oh, God save us! Their tongues are like sharp knives! In Paris, London—not only in Rus’,2— Everywhere the same! On one string they harp: Only abuse—always the ladies suffer! We expect madrigals—but epigrams we read. From kinfolk—brothers, husbands, fathers, sons Do not expect words of praise. Long have we desired our own songstress! Will you sing? Say yes or no. ME Yes, yes, dear hearts, sisters, yes! Praise to the Almighty! I’ve been singing five years already! WOMEN And what have you sung in those years? Admittedly, we are not all schooled in Russian; And Russian writings are strange. Yes, in truth, they are not in fashion now. ME I sing of nature’s beauties. I place a crescent moon upon the water, Count little drops of dew, Praise the dawn of celestial bodies, Tend flocks in the meadows, Give reeds to shepherds, Weave flowers into their girlfriends’ plaits, Which are fair-haired like linen.

462 Anna Petrovna Bunina Велю, схватясь рука с рукой Бежать на пляску им с прыжками; И резвыми ногами, Не смять чтоб травинки ни одной! Вздвигаю до небес скалы кремнисты; Сажаю древеса ветвисты, Чтоб старца, в жарки дни, Покоить в их тени. Ловлю по розам мотыльков крылатых: Созвав певцов пернатых Сама томлюся я В согласной трели соловья. Иль вдруг, коням раскинув гриву, Велю восточный ветр перестигать, До облак прах копытами взметать. Рисую класами венчанну ниву, Что вид от солнечных лучей Прияв морей, Из злата растопленных Колышется, рябит, блестит, Глаза слепит, Готовясь наградить оратаев смиренных. Природы красотой Глас робкий укрепляя мой, Вдруг делаюсь смелея!— ЖЕНЩИНЫ Эге! какая ахинея! Да слова мы про нас не видим тут … Что ползы песни нам такия принесут? На что твоих скотов, комолых и с рогами? Не нам ходить на паству за стадами! И так, певица ты зверей! Изрядно! … но когда на ту ступила ногу, — Иди в берлогу, Скитайся средь полей, И всуе не тягчи столицы.

Anna Petrovna Bunina 463 I bid them run hand in hand, And dance with leaps, And, with their nimble legs, Not crush a single blade of grass. To the heavens I raise stony cliffs, Plant branchy trees Under which an old man, on hot days, Might find relief in the shade. I chase winged butterflies among the roses. Summoning plumed singers, I myself languish In the nightingale’s harmonious trill. Or suddenly, having spread the steeds’ mane,3 I bid him outpace the east wind, To make dust fly up toward the heavens with his hooves. I paint fields crowned by ears of grain, Which, from the sun’s rays, appear Like a sea Of molten gold. It sways, ripples, shines, And blinds the eyes, Preparing to reward the humble ploughmen. Strengthening my own timid voice With nature’s beauty, I am suddenly emboldened. WOMEN Fie! What nonsense! Why, we see there not a word about us… What use to us are such songs? Why all these cattle of yours, horned and hornless? ’Tis not for us to go to pasture with the herds. And so, you are a songstress of beasts! Lovely! … But if you are going in that direction, Head to your lair, Roam amidst the fields, And do not burden the capitals in vain.

464 Anna Petrovna Bunina Я Нет милыя сестрицы! Пою я также и людей. ЖЕНЩИНЫ Похвально! но кого и как ты величала? Я Нередко подвиги мужей я воспевала, В кровавый что вступая бой, За веру и царя живот скончали свой, И гулом ратное сотрясши поле, Несла под лавром их оттоле Кропя слезой! Нередко же, от горести и стонов, Прейдя к блюстителям законов, Весельем полня дух, Под их Эгидою беспечно отдыхала! Подчас к пиитам я вперяя слух, Пред громкой лирой их колена преклоняла. Подчас, Почтением влекома, Я пела Физика, Химиста, Астронома. ЖЕНЩИНЫ И тут ни слова нет про нас! Вот подлинно услуга! Так что же нам в тебе? На что ты нам? На что училась ты стихам? Тебе, чтоб брать из своего все круга; А ты пустилася хвалить мужчин! Как будто похвалы их стоит пол один! Изменица! сама размысли зрело, Твое ли это дело! Иль нет у них хвалителей своих! Иль добродетелей в нас меньше чем у них?

Anna Petrovna Bunina 465 ME No, sweet sisters! I also sing of people. WOMEN Commendable! But whom have you honored in your songs and how? ME At times I sang the deeds of men Who gave their lives for God and Tsar, Entering into bloody battle, And shaking the battlefield with their cries. I took them away crowned in laurels, Bathing them in tears! Frequently, passing from moans and grief To the lawgivers, Filling my spirit with merriment, I would rest carefree beneath their Aegis!4 At times, I inclined my ear toward poets, Kneeling before their loud lyre. At times, Out of respect, I sang of physicists, chemists, and astronomers. WOMEN And not a word about us! There’s a good turn! So, what are we to you? What use are you to us? Why did you learn poetry? That you might spurn affairs of your own circle? And you have taken to praising men! As if their sex alone deserved praise! Traitoress! Think about it clearly. Is it your concern! Or do they not have praisers of their own? Or do we possess less virtue than they?

466 Anna Petrovna Bunina Я Все правда, милыя! Вы их не ниже; Но ах! Мущины, а не вы присутсвуют в судах, При авторских венках, И слава авторска у них в руках; А всякой сам к себе невольно ближе.*1

* Да простится мне шутка сия из снизхождения к веселонравным Музам, которыя любят мешать дело с бездельем, ложь с истиной, и нивинной резвостию увеселять беседы [author’s footnote].

Anna Petrovna Bunina 467 ME Sweethearts, that’s true! You’re no lower than they. But, ah! ’Tis men, not you, who preside among the judges. For an author’s laurels And authorial glory are in their hands. And it can’t be helped—we are each dearest to ourselves.†2

† May this joke of mine be excused out of condescension to the cheerful Muses, who love to mix activity with idleness, lies with truth, and to enliven conversation with innocent playfulness [author’s footnote].

Notes Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Kniazhnina (1746–1797) 1. The Russian text is reproduced from its original source, Trudoliubivaia pchela (Mar. 1759): 191. The poem is signed “Katerina Sumarokova.”

Elizaveta Vasil’evna Kheraskova (1737–1809) 1. The Russian text is reproduced from its original source, Poleznoe uveselenie 20 (Nov. 1760): 189–90. The poem is signed with Kheraskova’s initials, “E. Kh.” 2. By using the feminine form of the short-form adjective “content” (dovol’na), Kheraskova reveals her gender. 3. Kelly (“Sappho, Corinna, and Niobe,” 43) argues that in this poem Kheraskova “sees love not as the pinnacle of female existence (as it was for the Sentimentalists), but as something damaging to a reasonable and autonomous existence” and suggests that she anticipates eighteenth-century British writer Mary Wollstonecraft’s “strictures against the cult of love by women.” It seems more fitting to read Kheraskova’s discussion of love within the context of the Masonic circles she and her husband frequented. 4. The Russian text is reproduced from its original source, Poleznoe uveselenie 21 (Dec. 1760): 193–94. The poem is signed with Kheraskova’s initials, “E. Kh.” 5. The Russian text is reproduced from its original source, Poleznoe uveselenie 22 (Jan. 1761): 191–92. 6. The Russian text is reproduced here from the second edition (1799) of Karamzin’s Aonidi ili sobranie raznykh novykh stikhotvorenii 1, 70–72. The poem is signed with Kheraskova’s initials, “E. Kh.——a.” 7. Throughout this poem Kheraskova employs the word “chelovek” (person) rather than “man.” Nonetheless, “chelovek” is not only grammatically masculine, but also the standard way of conveying “mankind” or “man” in the abstract, thus I have opted for the use of this masculine term throughout.

Ekaterina Sergeevna Urusova (1747–after 1817) 1. The Russian text is reproduced from the original source, Starina i novizna 2 (1773): 204– 6. The original title, “Mkhl Mtvvch Khrskv,’ is a cryptographic dedication to Kheraskov. 2. In Classical literature, Parnassus was the sacred mountain connected to the worship of Apollo and the Muses. In Russian neoclassicism, “attaining Parnassus” alludes to a writer’s successful mastery of literary craft.

469

470 Notes 3. Castalia is a nymph who, in order to escape Apollo, transforms herself into a spring. This sacred spring at the holy temple of Delphi on Mount Parnassus was known as a source of inspiration for Apollo and the Muses. Thus, in Classical literature, “drinking the waters of Castalia” referred to poetic inspiration. Again, Urusova responds directly to Kheraskov, who in the opening stanza of his poem mentions her wish to draw from the waters on Parnassus. 4. Urusova here refers to Kheraskov himself and to other Russian writers who worked in the epic genre and were thus considered Russian “Homers,” after the great ancient Greek poet Homer, author of The Iliad and The Odyssey. In his poem dedicated to Urusova, Kheraskov does not mention himself at all, but does dedicate two stanzas to Homer. 5. Kheraskov writes to Urusova: “If you seek proud glory,/Accord your lyre with Homer,/ If you write for amusement,/Sing with Anacreon.” Mikhail Kheraskov, “Knzhn Ktrn Srgvn Rsv,” Starina i novizna 2 (1773): 201. 6. Urusova refers to Kheraskov’s five-canto epic poem, The Battle of Chesma (Chesmesskii boi) (1771). The poem celebrates the Russian victory over the Turks in June 1770, a battle that, as Isabel de Madariaga notes, “ranks with Lepanto and Trafalgar as a naval battle which marked the course of history and created a national myth.” Madariaga, Russia in the Age of Catherine the Great, 211. Kheraskov’s The Battle of Chesma marks his first foray into the epic genre, culminating in his Russian national epic The Rossiada (1778). Kheraskov was thus honored by Russian readers as their own Homer. The “hero” sung by Kheraskov was General Aleksei Orlov, brother of Catherine’s “favorite” at the time, Grigorii Orlov. 7. This entire stanza responds directly to Kheraskov’s poem. For example, he claims that Urusova “has the tenderness” of the Muses and twice references Anacreon as a possible model. Anacreon (570–485 BC) was a Greek lyric poet whose work celebrates love and pleasures. In the eighteenth century his name became synonymous with light love poetry. For a discussion of Lomonosov’s “Conversation with Anacreon,” see the introduction to Urusova in this volume. 8. “Cupid” was a commonplace for love, referring to the winged Roman boy-god of love, who was frequently depicted with a bow and arrow. 9. Sappho (b. late 7th century BC) was a lyrical Greek poet whose name in the Russian eighteenth century became synonymous with “woman poet.” Here again Urusova directly responds to Kheraskov, who wrote to her, “Pleasant Sappho/You will see in laurels there./ Heed her moaning/And imitate her verses.” For a discussion of Urusova and Sappho, see the introduction to Urusova in this volume. 10. Here and in the last stanza, the “Kh**” surely refers to Kheraskov. 11. The poem is reproduced from an original 1774 edition: Polion ili prosvetivshiisia neliudim, Poema (St.  Petersburg: Artilleriiskii i inzhenernyi shliaketnyi kadestkii korpus tipografshchikom I. K. Shnor, 1774). 12. Given her previous poem dedicated to Kheraskov, it seems Urusova refers here to his patronage.

Notes 471 13. Here Urusova uses the Russian noun pol (sex), thus emphasizing the connection between the poem’s title, Polion, and issues of sex or gender. 14. The Russian term used here, pesnoslovie, combines pesnia (song) and slovo (word). A pesnoslovie usually referred to a spiritual song of praise. 15. Throughout the poem, Urusova plays on the three meanings of the Russian svet: “light,” “the world,” and “high society.” Clearly, English cannot convey all these nuances, so each instance had to be translated with its an eye to its primary signification in context. If readers consider the triple-entendre of “svet,” they can make connections about Urusova’s message of the positive (light!) influence of high society in the world. See the last line of the poem for a clear play on the three meanings “And wheresoever love reigns, there society’s light shines” (I tam siiaet svet, gde tsarsvuet liubov’). 16. In Greek mythology Zephyr (or Zephyrus) personifies the west wind. In her poetry Urusova, like many poets of the period, makes Zephyr synonymous with a light wind. 17. Pomona is the Roman nymph or goddess of fruit trees. 18. Aurora is the Roman goddess of the dawn. 19. In Roman mythology, Latona is another name for Leto, the mother of the Sun God Apollo. 20. The siege by the Greeks of the ancient city of Troy is the subject of Homer’s epic The Iliad. 21. Achaea refers to a region covering the northern Peloponnesus, but Homer uses “Achaeans” to refer to the Greeks in general. 22. The Iliad is an epic poem by the ancient Greek poet Homer, which in eighteenth-century Russia, as in western Europe, had become part of the required canon for educated readers. 23. The Greek philosopher Socrates (469–399 BCE) left no writings of his own but was immortalized in the works of Plato and others. 24. As with all Classical writers, the Greek philosopher Plato (427–347 BCE) became widely known among educated eighteenth-century Russians. Like Homer, he had entered the literary canon by the time of Urusova’s writing. 25. Urusova here refers to yet another canonized ancient, the Roman orator Marcus Tullius Cicero (106–43 BCE). His reputation in Urusova’s time and now relates primarily to his famed renewal of the Latin language and his image as the ideal humane and civilized man. 26. Reference to the Greek lyric poet Pindar (518–after 446 BCE). In eighteenth-century Russia, Pindar was associated with the genre of triumphant and panegyric odes. 27. For Anacreon, see note 7 above. 28. In ancient Greek and Roman mythology, the Graces were minor goddesses, usually three in number, and thought to be the daughters of Zeus (see Hesiod, Theogony 107–9, who names them Aglaia [Radiance], Euphrosyne [Joy], and Thalia [Flowering]; Homer [Iliad

472 Notes 14.267–68, 275] mentions them, but not by name). They represent the grace and beauty that make life enjoyable. They are considered companions to the Muses, and great works of art are considered “works of the Graces.” 29. The Roman poet Virgil (70–19 BCE) is known for his Eclogues, Georgics, and the epic Aeneid. 30. The Roman poet Ovid (43 BCE–17 CE), whose Heroides (ancient Greek, “heroines”) cycle was written in the voices of abandoned female lovers, inspired Urusova’s own cycle of the same name (via French and Russian adaptations). 31. Here “false mind” may allude to Voltaire’s discussion of “l’esprit faux” in his 1752 Dictionnaire philosophique. In that concise essay, the philosophe laments with characteristic wit the false learning that passes for erudition. See Voltaire, “L’esprit faux,” 36: 63–64. 32. As explained in note 15, the word “svet” can mean “light,” “high society,” or “the world.” Here Urusova plays strongly on all three meanings, which I attempt to capture with “light of society.” 33. In addition to the obvious allusions to wealth and status, “rank” (in Russian, chin) had particular resonance in eighteenth-century Russia, referring to the Table of Ranks introduced by Peter the Great in 1722. That reform categorized all government positions into three sectors—military, civil, and court—and within each category listed fourteen ranks, with one being the highest. Clarifying the common misconception that the Table of Ranks was intended to privilege merit absolutely over birth, the eminent scholar of Petrine Russia Lindsey Hughes notes that although Peter made it clear that nobles should distinguish themselves, he ensured that the Table of Ranks did not deny them noble status. Hughes, “Table of Ranks,” 4: 1511–12. In the eyes of high society, so central to Polion’s worldview at the beginning of Urusova’s poem, success comes by ascending the Table of Ranks. 34. Great art as “imitation of nature” was a commonplace at the time, originally derived from Aristotle’s Poetics and eventually evolving into debates over imitation of model authors, genres, and texts. In Urusova’s time, the doctrine of imitation was already on its way out in western Europe and her fellow Russians too would soon abandon it for emerging notions of originality and individual genius. 35. The khorovod is a Russian folk dance or “round dance.” Participants join hands in a circle to sing ritual songs and dance. The khorovod is usually performed to mark the pagan spring holiday of Maslenitsa. 36. Flora is the Italian goddess of flowers, whose story is told by Ovid (Fasti 193–274) and later by Sandro Botticelli’s Primavera (1482; Uffizi Gallery). 37. Ceres, an Italian earth goddess, was associated with the generative powers of nature. 38. Although this poem is set in an abstract pastoral landscape, this reference to the residents “belonging” to Polion hints at the Russian reality of serfdom at the time. Serfdom evolved in Russia over the centuries, with legal abolition occurring under Alexander II in

Notes 473 1861. In Urusova’s time serfdom had in fact become more like what we traditionally think of as slavery. The eminent historian Richard Hellie summarizes Russian serfdom in the second half of the eighteenth century as follows: “Serfs were auctioned, traded, moved to wherever their lords wanted them to live, and even compelled to breed. However, lords did not own a serf ’s inventory, clothing, personal property, and so on.” Hellie, “Serfdom,” 4: 1368. 39. It was common at this time for streets to be “paved” in wood. 40. The term “golden age,” first used by the Greek poet Hesiod (Works and Days 109–120), became a commonplace during European and Russian neoclassicism. It referred to a mythical happy and ideal era at the dawn of humanity; the first “age of man.” Astrea was said to have lived among people during this Golden Age of innocence and purity. During the subsequent Silver age she retreated to live in the mountains. Finally, during the evil Bronze Age, she ascended to heaven. 41. The phrase “the common good” (obshchee blazhenstvo) became a commonplace in eighteenth-century Russia, borrowed from the French bien commun. 42. On rank, see note 33 above. 43. For khorovod, see note 35 above. 44. Refers to Voltaire’s famous “tender tragedy” Zaire. Loosely based on William Shakespeare’s Othello, Zaïre was beloved throughout Europe for its tenderness, while also infamous for its philosophic message that religious faith results merely from the accident of birth. In Zaïre the eponymous heroine is killed by her beloved husband, Orosmane, due to a mistaken suspicion of infidelity. For a discussion of Zaïre in a Russian context, see Ewington, A Voltaire for Russia, 124–27. 45. As Marcus Levitt mentions in his article on Urusova, the Russian word used here, pozorishche, marks a pun, as the word was also an eighteenth-century term for the theater. See Levitt, “Polemic with Rousseau,” 589, n14. 46. Thalia, one of the nine Muses celebrated by Hesiod in his Theogony, was the muse of comedy and bucolic poetry. 47. Refers to the moral treatises of the Ancient philosopher and poet Seneca (c. 4 BCE–65 CE). Seneca’s name became synonymous with the strict moral philosophy of the Stoics. 48. Here Urusova refers to the god of love, Cupid, by his Greek name, Eros. She calls him “son of the Cyprian” in reference to his mother, Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love, beauty, and fertility. In the Homeric hymn to Demeter (Homeric Hymns 2.101–105) she is called “the Cyprian.” In ancient Greek poetry, Eros was portrayed as a beautiful young man or child, with bow, arrows, and torch. He personifies physical desire and inspires love, but can also be cruel and unpredictable. 49. For the Graces, see note 28 above. 50. “Genii” (pl., “genius”) were guardian spirits in ancient Rome and eventually came to be associated with literary inspiration.

474 Notes 51. The “Cytherean” is yet another name given to the Greek goddess Aphrodite, with reference to the legend of her landing at the island of Cythera. Homeric Hymns 10. 52. The Roman goddess Diana was associated with the Greek Artemis, thus she was identified with forests and hunting. 53. The Palladium refers to the image of Pallas Athena, the Greek goddess of war (the Roman Minerva). The Palladium figures in the histories of the Trojan wars, as it was believed that Troy could not be destroyed as long as they had the Palladium; thus various legends recount the theft of the Palladium in order to make possible the sacking of Troy. See, for example, Virgil, Aeneid 2.162–79. In eighteenth-century Russia, Catherine II was frequently referred to as Minerva or the Russian Palladium. 54. Aphrodite is the Greek goddess of love, beauty, and fertility. 55. Naiada makes an untranslatable play on words here: in Russian okhota can mean “pleasure” or “hunt.” Thus, they will meet with her “hunt”—since she has been depicted as a “Diana” in hunter’s garb; but it could also be taken to mean they will find pleasure and enjoyment. 56. With the character of Naiada, Urusova alludes to the nymphs of rivers and springs, known in Greek mythology as naiads. 57. Urusova uses the Homeric epithet, “fiery planet” (goriashchaia planeta) for Mars, as well as a Russian form of the Greek “Pontus” (Pont) to refer to the sea. In Urusova’s time “Pontus” could mean “sea” or more specifically, the Black Sea. 58. Urusova seems to allude to the Greek god of wealth, Plutus. It was said that Zeus blinded him to ensure he would be indiscriminate in distributing riches. 59. The Greek goddess Leto is known as the mother of the Sun god, Apollo. 60. Aurora is the Roman goddess of the dawn. 61. For the khorovod, see note 35 above. 62. For “golden age,” see note 40. In this passage Urusova probably also had in mind Honoré d’Urfé’s novel Astrée (1607–29). Famed as a precursor to French Sentimentalism and Romanticism, as well as the modern novel, Astrée takes place in a pastoral landscape and explores the many forms and dimensions of love. In eighteenth-century Russia the golden age also took on broader cultural and political connotations, as it became associated with the image of a triumphant new Russia under Catherine’s rule. Baehr, Paradise Myth in Eighteenth-Century Russia. 63. The Roman goddess Minerva, like the Greek Athena, was associated with intelligence and war. 64. This strange image of water flowing upward suggests that Polion marvels here at some sort of elaborate fountain.

Notes 475 65. For Astrea and the golden age, see notes 40 and 62. 66. In Homer Odyssey 10.135–574, the magical Circe turns Odysseus’s men into swine. 67. In Greek mythology the Sirens are magical sea creatures who, with their song, lure men to their demise. The hero Odysseus manages to hear their song but still escape (Odyssey 12.37–200). 68. Together with Parnassus, Mount Helicon in Greece was believed to be home to the Muses and became synonymous with literary achievement. 69. For the Palladium, see note 53. 70. In Greek mythology Aeolus is master of the winds. In the Odyssey, the hero stays one month with Aeolus, who then sends him on his way with a sack containing all the winds. But Odysseus’s sailors, convinced that he was hiding treasure from them, open the sack, releasing the winds. Their ship is sent right back to the island of Aeolus, where the now-angry god refuses to help and sends them away (Odyssey 10). The reference to Aeolus’s cave suggests that Urusova also has in mind Virgil’s Aeneid, when Juno turns for help to Aeolus, who dwells in a cave where he keeps all the winds imprisoned (Aeneid I). 71. Refers to the hero’s descent into Hades in Homer, Odyssey 11. 72. Now Urusova turns to Homer’s epic poem, The Iliad. She apparently alludes to the gods’ discord over whether the battle of Troy should continue (Iliad 4). The reference to the “heroic steeds” refers to Achilles’s horse, Xanthus, who miraculously speaks to him before the battle. He warns his master of his impending death on the battlefield (Iliad 19). The “wounds” mentioned by Urusova may refer to the wounded heroes in that same section of The Iliad. 73. The poem ends with the double entendre of svet as “society” and “light.” Thus, this line could also be translated as “And wheresoever love reigns, there society’s light shines.” 74. Reproduced from Iroidy, muzam posviashchennyia (St. Petersburg: Tipografiia artileriiskago i inzhenernago Shliakhetnago kadetskago korpusa u tipografii soderzhatelia Kh. F. Klena, 1777). As with Polion, this early edition of the Heroides was published anonymously. 75. Here Urusova engages in the already common motif of pre-Petrine Russia as darkness awaiting the light of Peter’s reforms. 76. Eighteenth-century Russians frequently referred to their own poets as Russian versions of various great writers, depending on which genre they had pioneered. For example, Aleksander Sumarokov was frequently called the Russian Boileau and Russian Racine, with reference to his “Epistle on Poetry” and his numerous verse tragedies. For a review of the use of such epithets for Sumarokov and more generally, see Ewington, A Voltaire for Russia, 3–25. 77. At the time of publication, Catherine the Great had been in power for sixteen years. During Catherine’s reign a modern secular literature began, at last, to develop in Russia. 78. See note 40 for a discussion of “golden age.”

476 Notes 79. For “Castalian waters,” see note 3. 80. When harkening back to their ancient culture and history, Russian writers in Urusova’s time and today refer to their homeland as Rus’. The term comes from Kievan Rus’ (approx. 850–1240), the birthplace of Russian civilization. 81. The ancient Greek poet Sappho became synonymous with “woman poet.” For a discussion of Urusova and Sappho, see the introduction to her work in this volume. 82. Urusova refers to the famous French précieuse poet, the Comtesse Henriette de la Suze (1618–83), whose name, like Sappho’s, had become a common epithet for female writers in eighteenth-century Russia. 83. This first poem is the only one among Urusova’s collection that alludes, however obliquely, to Ovid. Urusova’s Leander surely acquires his name from the exchange between Hero and Leander in Ovid, Heroides. Still Ovid’s story bears no resemblance to Urusova’s tale of marital infidelity. As for Urusova’s heroine, Zeida, and her nemesis, Vizora, their names do not derive from any known Russian tragedies or histories, but do carry a vaguely exotic “Eastern” feel of the kind popular in eighteenth-century Russian and French literature. 84. Aurora is the Roman goddess of the dawn. 85. See note 57 for a discussion of the Pontus. 86. Although she alludes to the hero of Torquato Tasso’s epic poem Jerusalem Delivered (La Gerusalemme liberate; 1581), it is more likely that Urusova knew this story through Kheraskov’s 1760 poems (inspired by Tasso), “Armida to Rinaldo” (Armida k Rinol’du) and “Rinaldo to Armida” (Rinol’do k Armide). Interestingly, both of Kheraskov’s Armida poems have been characterized by scholars as heroides or at least moving in the direction of that developing genre. See Gukovskii, Russkaia poeziia v VIII veke, 89; and Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Kheraskov, Mikhail Matveevich” (online) http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=10381. Urusova’s readers would have known the basic story of Rinaldo, who temporarily falls under the power of the beautiful Armida and forgets his duty, but then comes to his senses and rejoins his men to enter Jerusalem. 87. In the author’s note to this poem, Urusova refers to The False Smerdis, a 1769 tragedy by the poet and minor playwright A. A. Rzhevskii (1737–1804). It was based on the reign of Cambyses in Persia (530–522 BCE) during which Cambyses, in an effort to assure his own throne, murdered his brother, Smerdis. A few years later a pretender, claiming to be Smerdis, challenged Cambyses and ascended to the throne himself. Rzhevskii’s account of these events is likely based on Herodotus (see Lang, “Prexaspes and Usurper Smerdis”) and fit into the pretender theme in eighteenth-century Russian literature. Not surprisingly, given that Catherine II came to power in a coup, the issue of pretenders was both a popular and a delicate one, especially at the time of Urusova’s Heroides. Urusova published this collection in 1777, just four years after the Pugachev Rebellion (Pugachevshchina), a revolt led by a pretender to the throne. Catherine the Great had been deeply rattled by the Cossack

Notes 477 Emelyan Pugachev who, claiming to be Catherine’s dead (or murdered) husband Peter III, managed to lead the bloodiest serf uprising in modern Russian history. Given the delicacy of the pretender theme, it is perhaps not surprising that Urusova emphasizes not the political angle but the love triangle in Rzhevskii’s play. The beautiful Fedima marries the evil tyrant Smerdis after he threatens to kill both her father and her beloved, Darius. Elise Kimerling Wirtschafter offers the following helpful plot synopsis of Rzhevskii’s tragedy: “Fortunately, before Smerdis can act against Darius, rebellion among the grandees reveals that he is a pretender. The confrontation also leads to Smerdis’s death, after which Darius is crowned by popular acclamation. Fedima plays no role in these events and even tries to protect her husband. When Darius declares his desire to marry her, she is unable to respond: instead of embracing her beloved, she expresses despair over the spilled blood of her spouse. However much tyranny justified the killing of the imposter tsar, no human deed could break the sacred bond of marriage.” Wirtschafter, Play of Ideas, 68. The playwright A. P. Sumarokov, known as the father of Russian theater, also wrote a play on this theme, Artistona (1750), but in his tragedy both Darius and Fedima are villains. Perhaps Urusova neglects Sumarokov’s version in part because his reputation was already in decline when she published the Heroides, which appeared in 1777, the same year that Sumarokov died. For a brief overview of Artistona, see Ewington, A Voltaire for Russia, 141–42. 88. I have translated “scepter’s power” for Urusova’s one word, derzhava, since that word has two meanings: it can refer to a golden globe with a cross on top, serving as a symbol of the tsar’s power; but it also means “power” in the sense of a country that is also a “great power” or, in our contemporary context, a “superpower.” 89. Herodotus, whose histories inspire Urusova’s poem (via Rzhevskii’s tragedy, The False Smerdis) identifies Smerdis as a “magus,” a sort of Eastern sorcerer or magician. For a succinct introduction to Herodotus’s account in relation to more recent historical evidence about Smerdis, see Lang, “Prexaspes and Usurper Smerdis.” 90. Darius here refers to himself; Hystaspes was his father. 91. The “crown” here refers to the element of the wedding wreaths, or “crowns,” in the Orthodox wedding ceremony; a Russian symbol in this Persian setting. 92. During the reign of Darius, Egypt came under Persian control. Despite the reference to the Egyptians weaving laurel wreathes (the symbol of victory) for the Persians, they would in fact rise up against the Persians around the time of Darius’s death. 93. Darius made Susa the capital of the Persian Empire. 94. Otanes is Fedima’s father. 95. I have used “affinity” to express the Russian svoistvo. Both the English and the Russian are rather archaic kinship terms expressing “relationship by marriage.” In other words, Fedima accuses Darius of asking her to abandon not only her husband, but the entire set of relations she has acquired through marriage.

478 Notes 96. As noted in the introduction to Urusova, this poem may have been inspired by Fedor P. Kliucharev’s Vladimir the Great, which was published two years after Urusova’s Heroides, but may have been staged earlier. It is also possible that she may have simply taken inspiration from Russian history: around 980 Vladimir (the soon-to-be Christianizer of Russia who was grand prince of Novgorod) was refused by Rogneda, daughter of the Polotsk ruler, Rogvolod. She was intended in marriage to Vladimir’s brother, Iaropolk, with whom Vladimir was fighting and whom he eventually killed. When Rogneda refused Vladimir, he raped her in front of her family and then murdered her father and brothers before her eyes. Vladimir then forced Rogneda to marry him, and she bore him a son, Iziaslav. Several years later Rogneda attempted to take her revenge and murder her husband but was thwarted and sentenced to death. According to legend (and as depicted here by Urusova), Vladimir forced Rogneda to dress in wedding attire before her execution. Also according to legend, her son Iziaslav appeared at the last moment to prevent the execution and Vladimir, unwilling to kill his wife in his son’s presence, chose to exile them both. Other sources suggest that in fact Vladimir simply needed to rid himself of his wife when he converted to Christianity and thus forced her into a convent. Urusova’s poem follows the more exciting version of the legends. The emphasis on duty, betrayal, and vengeance adhere well to the conventions of neoclassical tragedy. The basic outline of Rogneda’s story was well known in the eighteenth century, appearing in historical essays by M. V. Lomonosov, V. N. Tatishchev, and others. Further testifying to the popularity of this episode was A. P. Losenko’s 1770 “Vladimir and Rogneda,” the first painting to depict Russian national history. It is certainly possible that Urusova had occasion to view this painting, which is now part of the permanent collection at the State Russian Museum in St. Petersburg. She may also have been inspired by Kniazhnin’s tragedy Vladimir and Iaropolk. If she was familiar with the play, it would have been in manuscript form, as it was written in 1772, but not staged until 1784. See Stennik, Russkaia literatura, and http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=5751. In the nineteenth century the story of Vladimir and Rogneda inspired a poem by the Decembrist poet K. F. Ryleev, “Rogneda,” which in turn led to A. N. Serov’s 1865 opera of the same name. 97. The city-state of Novgorod the Great had been settled by Varangians and was the main trade center in northwest Russia. It became a major ecclesiastical and cultural power after Vladimir’s Christianization of Kievan Rus’ in 988. 98. She refers to her father, Rogvolod, who ruled the Polotsk lands, located in present-day Belarus. 99. Rogneda was betrothed to Vladimir’s brother, Iaropolk, whom Vladimir killed as part of his conquest of power. 100. The “crown” here refers to the element of the wedding wreaths, or “crowns,” in the Orthodox wedding ceremony. Of course, this represents an anachronism for this preChristian setting. 101. In Virgil, Aeneid (2.705ff), Aeneus carries his father Anchises from burning Troy upon his shoulders.

Notes 479 102. Reference to the biblical Garden of Eden (Genesis 3). In other words, even the most terrible conditions would seem a paradise to her, as long as she could be with her husband. 103. In her note to the title of this poem, Urusova has in mind the unpublished tragedy Idamant by A. V. Khrapovitskii. That play, composed sometime prior to 1772, was itself an adaptation of Mozart’s opera Idomeneo. Khrapovitskii was Catherine II’s influential personal secretary and also brother to the poet Sushkova (see introduction to her work and translations of her poems later in this volume). Khrapovitskii’s play was not published, but by reading Urusova’s herois it is clear that he follows the basic plot line of Mozart’s opera, but changes the oppressed daughter’s name from Ilia to Ol’phena (perhaps because Il’ia is a common man’s name in Russian) and her father from Priam to Merion. 104. Scamander was the river god on the side of Trojans in the Trojan War. 105. “Ilion” (Latinized as “Ilium”) was the ancient Greek name for Troy. 106. Just as the laurel wreath signifies victory, Ol’phena here refers to marks of esteem for the hero’s courage. 107. Reference to Paris’s father alludes to the Trojans. 108. Myrtle is closely linked with the goddess Venus, and therefore with sexual desire and its fulfillment. Cypress, on the other hand, is associated with Pluto, the god of the underworld. When Kliada sees myrtle rather than cypress on the altar, she knows her father will not allow her to consummate her passion with Gironte but will instead bow to the gods of death and destruction. 109. The Russian text is reproduced here from the second edition (1799) of Karamzin’s Aonidi ili sobranie raznykh novykh stikhotvorenii 1 (1796): 67–69. The poem is signed “K. K U—a” for “Princess [Kniazhna] Katerina Urusova.” 110. The Russian text is reproduced here from the second edition (1799) of Karamzin’s Aonidi ili sobranie raznykh novykh stikhotvorenii 1 (1796): 122–24. The poem is signed “K. K U—a” for Princess [Kniazhna] Katerina Urusova. 111. This line refers to Urusova’s cousin, N. N. Trubetskoi and his wife, who were in exile at that time. See Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Urusova, Ekaterina Sergeevna,” http://www.pushkinskijdom.ru/Default.aspx?tabid=10379. 112. The Russian text is reproduced here from the second edition (1799) of Karamzin’s Aonidi ili sobranie raznykh novykh stikhotvorenii 1 (1796): 131–34. The poem is signed “K. K U—a” for “Princess [Kniazhna] Katerina Urusova.” 113. For the naiads, see note 56. 114. The Russian text is reproduced here from Ippokrena 3, no. 71 (1799): 303–4. 115. For Castalian waters, see note 3.

480 Notes 116. The Russian text is reproduced here from the second edition (1799) of Karamzin’s 1796 Aonidi ili sobranie raznykh novykh stikhotvorenii 1 (1796): 135–37, where it is signed “K. K U—a” for Princess (Kniazhna) Katerina Urusova. 117. See note 3. 118. The Russian text is reproduced here from Aonidi ili sobranie raznykh novykh stikhotvorenii 3 (1798–99): 27–30. It is signed with the cryptogram “K—a—K—a U—a” for “Princess [Kniazhna] Katerina Urusova.” 119. St. Petersburg, which was the capital of the Russian Empire at the time, is located on the Neva River. 120. Pomona is the Roman nymph or goddess of fruit trees. She was said to tend her sacred grove outside Rome. With the image of this grove outside St. Petersburg, Urusova engages in the common motif of St. Petersburg as Rome, with Catherine II cast in the role of Pomona. 121. Emphasis in the original. Pomona’s fruits were thought to carry magical healing properties. 122. We do not know the identity of the three women Urusova honors here, but Natalia Kochetkova (Slovar’ russkikh pisatelei XVIII veka, s.v. “Urusova”) notes that the poem is followed immediately by a verse reply signed by yet another unknown figure, identified only by the initials N. P. See the introduction to Urusova in this volume for more on the possible identity of these three women. 123. This poem was never published. The text is preserved in the archives of G. R. Derzhavin at the Russian National Library in St. Petersburg. f. 247, t. 25, l. 106–7. An excerpt of the original Russian is included in Kochetkova, “Kniazhna Urusova i ee literaturnye sobesedniki,” 99–100. Although undated, the fact that she responds to Turchaninova’s work suggests that it was written in the 1790s. The poem is signed “K. K. U.” 124. The Russian text is reproduced here from its original publication in Syn otechestva 31, no. 30 (1816): 160–61. The poem is signed “K. K. U … …” 125. The Russian term izkhod has the biblical connotation of Exodus. 126. The verb “to whiten” (ubelit’) in both Russian and English at the time had the sense of freeing from evil or guilt. 127. The adjective “vetkhii” also has biblical connotations, as this was the adjective used for the “Old” Testament (Vetkhii zavet).

Maria Vasil’evna Sushkova (1752–1803) 1. The Russian text is taken from its original source, Sobesednik liubitelei rossiiskago slova 5 (1783): 3–8.

Notes 481 2. Sushkova alludes to Derzhavin’s ode, “Felitsa,” which was published in the Sobesednik earlier in 1783. See the introduction to Sushkova in this volume for a discussion of her “Chinaman’s Letter” in relation to Derzhavin’s “Felitsa.” 3. Here Sushkova frames Russia’s Westernization in terms of the Enlightenment ideal of cosmopolitanism. 4. This line suggests that Sushkova addresses this poem to Derzhavin, who, as discussed above, establishes the genre of “murza” poems with his “Felitsa.” 5. Sushkova here refers to the biblical story of the queen of Sheba, who traveled to the court of King Solomon to test his wisdom (1 Kings 10). 6. Sushkova likely has in mind Peter the Great as Russia’s greatest ruler, a modern-day Solomon. 7. St. Petersburg, which was the capital of the Russian Empire in Sushkova’s time, is located on the Neva River. 8. In Russian tsaritsa usually refers to the tsar’s wife, however, it could be used figuratively not as a title, but to mean “queen.” Sushkova clearly adopts tsaritsa because it rhymes with Felitsa. 9. Reference to Catherine limiting (though not totally abolishing) the death penalty in her 1767–68 Instructions. 10. The Russian text is reproduced here from its original source, Sobesednik liubitelei rossiiskago slova 9 (1783): 19–22. 11. In Classical literature Parnassus was the sacred mountain connected to the worship of Apollo and the Muses. 12. In eighteenth-century Russia the influx of foreign words into Russian, especially from French and German, became a subject of heated debate. 13. As mentioned in the introduction to Sushkova, Russians were inspired by the idea of Catherine’s Russia as a potential golden age, when their country would achieve or surpass the glory that France had enjoyed during the reign of the Sun King, Louis XIV. 14. Mars is the Roman god of war. 15. The river Permes lies at the foot of Mount Helicon, a home of the Muses. The river was considered a source of poetic inspiration. Sushkova here makes the point that the Russians, like the Greeks and Romans before them, would be renowned not only for military prowess, but also for their great cultural achievements. 16. She again refers to the age of Louis XIV, when French letters experienced a golden age of literature and French became the language of educated Europe. 17. Catherine the Great of Russia came to power in a coup d’état against her husband, Peter III, in 1762 and ruled until her death in 1796. A German by birth, Catherine consciously

482 Notes cultivated an Enlightenment-inspired Europeanized culture among her educated subjects. As discussed in the introduction to this volume, the Pugachev Rebellion (1773–74) and later the French Revolution (1789) caused Catherine to largely abandon her earlier Enlightenment ideals as she moved to quash dissent. 18. Here Sushkova uses the feminine sotrudnitsa (colleague), thus emphasizing Dashkova’s gender in a way impossible to reflect in English. 19. This poem serves as a paean not only to the institution of the Academy and the rise of Russian culture, but also to Princess Ekaterina Romanovna Dashkova herself. Sushkova’s inspiration for this poem came from Dashkova’s appointment to the directorship of the Russian Academy in 1783, an unusually important public post for a woman. Dashkova published a few poems and translations, but is known today primarily for her memoirs. Dashkova, Memoirs. 20. The Roman goddess Minerva, like the Greek Athena, was associated with intelligence and war. Catherine the Great was often depicted as the northern Minerva in the sense that she was a great defender of the arts and culture. 21. “Prejudice” became a commonplace during the European Enlightenment. It suggested closed-mindedness and outdated ideas, thus contrasting with the new and purportedly objective and scientifically informed views of contemporary educated people. 22. Presumably she “rewards” Dashkova by appointing her head of the Russian Academy.

Maria Voinovna Zubova (1749?–1799) 1. The Russian text is reproduced here from Novyi rossiiskii pesennik, 2nd ed. (St. Petersburg: I. K. Shnor, 1791), 1: 16–17. It can also be found in Andreev, Pesni russkikh poetov, 1: 188–89.

Ekaterina Petrovna Svin’ina (dates unknown) and Anastasia Petrovna Svin’ina (1778 or 1779–1841) 1. The Russian text is reproduced here from its original source, Priatnoe i poleznoe preprovozhdenie vremeni 6 (1795): 210–11. As discussed in the introduction to this section, she signs the poem with the cryptogram “N… . S… . a.” The identity of “V. A. B.” has not been established, but it clearly refers to the friend to whom she dedicates the poem. For more, see her author’s note at the end of the poem. 2. “Sensibility” (chuvstvitel’nost) was a commonplace that had entered Russian as a calque from the French sensibilité. This ability to feel deeply suggested a susceptibility to tender emotion and the power of art that was highly prized during Sentimentalism. 3. Cupid was a commonplace metaphor for love, referring to the winged Roman boy-god of love, who was frequently depicted with a bow and arrow. 4. The Greek god Hymen presided over weddings.

Notes 483 5. Emphasis in the original. Here Svin’ina plays on the word prelest’ (charm), which appeared at the end of the second stanza in the meaning of “deception,” and here in the meaning of a charming person, or beloved. In other words, the lover has traded in the false charms of Moscow society for the deeper spiritual charms of life with a dear wife. 6. In the Orthodox wedding service, the bride and groom each wear a crown. 7. The Russian text is reproduced here from its original source, Priatnoe i poleznoe preprovozhdenie vremeni 8, no. 89 (1795): 146–47. 8. A reference to Mikhail Kheraskov, a known patron of male and female writers alike, famous for his epic poetry, including the Russian national epic The Rossiada (1779). 9. She refers here to Kheraskov’s 1795 allegorical poem The Pilgrims, or Seekers of Happiness (Piligrimy ili iskateli schastia). 10. In ancient Greek and Roman mythology, minor goddesses, usually three in number, who represent the grace and beauty that make life enjoyable. 11. Svin’ina here uses an idiomatic expression which literally means “burning the incense.” In the Russian her word choice reinforces the Classical imagery in this stanza evoked by the golden lyre. 12. The Russian text is reproduced here from the second edition (1799) of Karamzin’s 1796 Aonidi ili sobranie raznykh novykh stikhotvorenii 1 (1796): 84–86. 13. The Greek god Apollo. Specifically, the epithet “Phoebus” here points to Apollo as the Sun god. 14. The Russian text is reproduced here from the second edition (1799) of Karamzin’s 1796 Aonidi ili sobranie raznykh novykh stikhotvorenii 1 (1796): 84–86. 15. Cupid was the winged Roman boy-god of love, who was frequently depicted with a bow and arrow.

Natalia Leont’evna Magnitskaia (dates unknown) and Aleksandra Leont’evna Magnitskaia (d. 1846) 1. The Russian text is reproduced here from its original source, Priatnoe i poleznoe preprovozhdenie vremeni 13 (1797): 176. It is signed “A. Magnitskaia.” 2. The laurel wreath is granted to a hero who may be victorious in battle or, as with Kheraskov, in the arts. 3. The Russian text is reproduced here from its original source, Priatnoe i poleznoe preprovozhdenie vremeni 13 (1797): 112. It is signed “N. Magnitskaia, Moscow, December 28, 1796.” 4. Saturn is the ancient Roman god of time. Magnitskaia here suggests that although the bust of Kheraskov will fall victim to time, as all things must, his poems will remain forever.

484 Notes

Maria Alekseevna Pospelova (1780–1805) 1. The Russian text is reproduced here from Pospelova’s 1798 volume, Luchshie chasy zhizni moei (Vladimir: Tipografiia gubernskago pravleniia, 1798), 38–39. 2. Pospelova here references the Trisagion, an opening prayer in the Eastern Orthodox divine liturgy. 3. Luchshie chasy zhizni moei, 49–50. 4. Ibid., 73–74.

Anna Aleksandrovna Turchaninova (dates unknown) 1. The Russian text for this poem is reproduced from its original source, Priatnoe i poleznoe preprovozhdenie vremeni 18 (1798): 304. Turchaninova’s poems in this periodical are all signed “Anna Trchnnva.” 2. Here Turchaninova indulges in the trope of memento mori, a call to remember the dead, which was fashionable with her idol, Edward Young (1683–1765) and other Graveyard poets. 3. The Russian text for this poem is reproduced from its original source, Priatnoe i poleznoe preprovozhdenie vremeni 19 (1798): 16. 4. Here Turchaninova uses the idiomatic expression “fimiam kurit,” which literally means to burn incense in temples (as in ancient Greece), but idiomatically is used to express excessive admiration or “to worship” someone. 5. In ancient Greek and Roman mythology, minor goddesses, usually three in number, who represent the grace and beauty that make life enjoyable. 6. In Greek mythology the Sirens are magical sea creatures who, with their song, lure men to their demise. The hero Odysseus manages to hear their song but still escape (Odyssey 12.37–200) 7. Turchaninova refers to the English pre-Romantic poet Edward Young (1683–1765). See the introduction to Turchaninova in this volume for more on the popularity of Young in Russia.

Princess Elizaveta Mikhailovna Dolgorukova (1766–18??) 1. The Russian text is reproduced here from the original source: Ippokrena 4, no. 86 (1799): 231. The author signs this poem with her full name and title. 2. The Russian text is reproduced here from the original source: Ippokrena 4, no. 86 (1799): 231–38. The author signs with the cryptogram “K. E. Dlgrkva,” with the “K” indicating “kniazhna” (princess).

Notes 485 3. The Russian text is reproduced here from the original source: Ippokrena 4, no. 86 (1799): 239-240. The author signs with the cryptogram “K. E. Dlgrkva,” with the “K” indicating “kniazhna” (princess) 4. The Russian includes what must be a typo of “tiazhkoe” (neuter sing. of “heavy”) as a modifier for the masculine noun “grekh” (sin).

Anna Sergeevna Zhukova (b.?–1799) 1. The Russian text is reproduced here from its original source: Ippokrena 2, no. 29 (1799): 28–29. It is signed “A. Zh.” 2. The boys’ names appear again in a poem about Zhukova’s illness written by their aunt (and Zhukova’s sister), Elizaveta Neelova. That poem, “Elegy on the Death of My Husband and on My Sister’s Illness,” appears in the next section of this volume. 3. The Russian text is reproduced here from its original source, Ippokrena 4, no. 95 (1799): 265–266. It is signed “A. Zh.”

Elizaveta Sergeevna Neelova (dates unknown) 1. The Russian text is reproduced from the original source: Ippokrena 4, no. 104 (1799): 412–16. It is signed “El. N—va.” 2. “Aniuta” is an affectionate diminutive form of “Anna.” She refers to her sister, the poet Anna Sergeevna Zhukova, whose work appears in this volume. 3. These are the same children named in “Maternal Feelings,” written by her sister, Zhukova, and included in this volume. 4. In his 1830 article Makarov remarked that Neelova’s sentiments here run boldly counter to Christian doctrine: “According to Christian duty there should be no place for such expressions; but who can understand true grief? Moreover, the poetess always has faith, always with warm hope in the Lord God.” Makarov, “Sotrudnitsy Sakhatskago,” 183.

Aleksandra Petrovna Murzina (dates unknown) 1. Murzina’s preface and her poem “To My Readers” are taken from the original published volume, Raspuskaiushchaiasia roza ili raznyia sochineniia v proze i stikhakh (Moscow: Gubernskaia tipografiia u A. Reshetnikova, 1799). 2. In Greek mythology, the Furies were spirits of vengeance against wrongs, especially murder, committed against one’s kin. They frequently appeared as goddesses who punished crimes after death and were shown carrying torches and scourges, and with snakes writhing in their hair. See especially Aeschylus, Eumenides. 3. As we have seen in the poems of Urusova, “Palladium” refers to the goddess Athena. Here Murzina has in mind a more specific allusion to Catherine the Great, who was frequently

486 Notes hailed as the Russian Palladium, in other words, the defender of Russian arts. Murzina, like Urusova in the dedication of the Heroides to the Muses, points to Catherine II’s gender as evidence of women’s intellectual and creative capacities. This poem was published just three years after Catherine’s death and two years after Paul I’s ukaz on male primogeniture. During his brief reign, Paul, who famously despised his mother, worked to undo her policies and altered the rules of succession in order to deny women the throne. Murzina’s reference to Catherine reflects the debate over the legacy of female rule in Russia in the wake of Paul’s decision. If Murzina intended here to rebuke Paul, then it was a necessarily subtle reproach, for, as we saw in the introduction, she looked to him for patronage.

Varvara Aleksandrovna Karaulova (1774–1842) 1. The Russian text is taken from the original source, Ippokrena 6, no. 56 (1800): 478–80. It is signed “V. K——ulova.”

Elizaveta Osipovna Moskvina (1759–1833) and Maria Osipovna Moskvina (1765–1824) 1. The Russian texts for poems by the Moskvina sisters are taken from the original 1802 publication, Aoniia ili sobranie stikhotvorenii. sochinenie Gzh***, edited by Boris K. Blank (Moscow: Universitetskaia tipografiia, 1802). 2. Emphasis in the original. The Russian name Nadezhda means “hope.” Thus, the author alludes to the infant as the “hope” for their happiness. For more on this, see the introduction to the Moskvina sisters in this volume. 3. As Engel (Women in Russia, 1700–2000, 38–39) notes, there was a very high level of infant mortality in Russia across all social strata, and noble men and women alike, seemed to confront such deaths stoically. 4. This echoes a line from the Russian Orthodox “Office of the Parting of the Soul” (Molitva na iskhod dushi). This prayer is read over the dying person. Numerous hagiographies include saints uttering these words before death: “Receive my soul in peace.” 5. Throughout this poem the author liberally applies diminutive forms, almost all of which have been rendered by adding the adjective “little” to the English translation. In fact, diminutives in Russian have less to do with size than with conveying a sense of affection on the part of the speaker toward the person or object described. Diminutives are much more common in Russian than in English. Thus, what may appear as a cloyingly sweet reliance on “little” in English, sounds quite natural in Russian and reflects the playful way that adults address young children. 6. In ancient Greek and Roman mythology, the Graces are minor goddesses who represent the grace and beauty that make life enjoyable.

Notes 487 7. Here the Russian “cherez bant” (literally, “across a bow”) plays on the phrase “cherez platok” (“across a handkerchief ”), a deadly form of dueling. 8. Moskvina offers a double entendre: the Russian Pafos alludes to both the city of Paphos, where Aphrodite was born, and to the rhetorical concept of “pathos,” persuasion through emotion. 9. In Greek mythology, ambrosia is the food of the gods. 10. Orpheus appears in ancient Roman poetry as the son of a Muse who played so beautifully on his lyre that he could charm even rocks and animals to move with his music. The famous story of Orpheus and Eurydice recounts his journey to the underworld to retrieve his beloved Eurydice. He charmed the goddess of the underworld, Persephone, with his music, and she allowed him to lead his lover back up to earth on the condition that he not glance back at her along the way. Orpheus looked back, and Eurydice disappeared forever. See Virgil, Georgics 4.453–525; Ovid, Metamorphoses 10.1–62. 11. See the discussion of Johann Hässler in the introduction to the Moskvina sisters in this volume. 12. For the Graces, see note 6.

Maria Petrovna Bolotnikova (dates unknown) 1. The Russian texts for Bolotnikova come from the original edition of Derevenskaia lira ili chasy uedineniia (Moscow: V tipografii Reshetnikova, 1817). Although never republished, it has now been made available online through the Corinna Project at the University of Exeter, http://projects.exeter.ac.uk/corinna/bolotnikova/title_page.htm. 2. Stohler notes that with these lines Bolotnikova “challenges Karamzin’s concept of writing, according to which women’s main function is to inspire poetry, but not to create it.” Stohler, “Released from Her Fetters?” 13. 3. I borrow here Ursula Stohler’s translation of this passage as “frisky little moth.” As she notes, “By using the image of the moth to represent men’s fickleness, Bolotnikova revises and resignifies the common use of this metaphor, in which the image of the butterfly refers to women,” (Stohler, “Released from her Fetters,” 15). 4. A play on the Russian saying “Burned by milk, blow on water,” which roughly corresponds to the English saying, “Once bitten, twice shy.” Stohler reads this concluding moral as a retort to Karamzin’s Poor Liza and other such stories, in which the deceived heroine commits suicide. Here, she argues, Bolotnikova “avers that, being capable of learning from bad experiences, women will no longer believe insincere promises.” “Released from Her Fetters,” 17.

488 Notes

Anna Petrovna Bunina (1774–1829) 1. The Russian text for Bunina’s poem, originally published in 1812, is reproduced here from an 1819 collected edition of her works, Anna Bunina, Sobranie stikhotvorenii (St. Petersburg: Tipografiia imperatorskoi rossiiskoi akademii, 1819), 106–10. 2. Kievan Rus’ (approx. 850–1240) was the birthplace of Russian civilization. 3. Bunina offers an overview of the various genres she has practiced. She moves from the pastoral landscape to the lofty epic battlefields. She apparently borrows this particular phrasing, “parted the steeds’ mane” from Virgil, Georgics. 4. In Greek mythology, the aegis was a common symbol of protection by higher authorities.

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Index of Subjects aegis, 487n4 Aonia, or A Collection of Works from the Misses (Moskvina & Moskvina), 424 Aonids (Karamzin), 45, 70 “Armida to Rinaldo” (Kheraskov), 476n86 autobiographical poems, 19, 381, 415–16



Battle of Chesma, The (Kheraskov), 62, 299, 470n6 Best Hours of My Life, The (Pospelova), 347, 348 Blooming Rose, or Various Compositions in Prose and Verse, The (Murzina), 403–4 “Brook, The” (Urusova), 70, 276–81 “brook,” motif of the, 70 Castalia, 470n3 Catherine the Great (Catherine II), 6–9, 22, 33, 475n77 age/era of, 9, 425, 427 censorship, 14n42, 9n31 courtiers, 300 depictions of, 482n20 Ekaterina Dashkova and, 7n24, 25, 301 Emelyan Pugachev and, 476n87 enlightenment and, 301 Enlightenment and, 481n17 “Felitsa” as ode to, 300, 301 history of her rule, 481n17 limiting the death penalty, 481n9 Maria Sushkova and, 7n24, 25, 297–99, 301, 302 as Minerva or the Russian Palladium, 474n53

Murzina and, 485n3 Nikolai Novikov and, 9, 9n31, 70n30, 319 as Pomona, 480n120 reactionary turn, 70n30 writings, 7, 67n25, 300 See also golden age Chesmesskii boi. See Battle of Chesma “Chinaman’s Letter to the Tatar Murza Residing in Petersburg on Business, A” (Sushkova), 25, 299, 300, 304–11 Christianity, 485n4. See also Russian Orthodox Church “Chuvstva materi.” See “Maternal Feelings” convents, 3–4 “Conversation between Me and the Women” (Bunina), 28, 455, 457–67 “conversations,” verse, 61 “Conversations with Anacreon” (Kheraskov), 61 crowns, 477n91, 478n100. See also Heroides Cupid, 329, 470n8, 473n48, 482n3, 483n15 death, 71 poetry about, 21–23, 367–68 (see also “Self-Epitaph”) “Deathbed, The” (Moskvina & Moskvina), 425–26, 428–33 depression. See grief; melancholy diminutives, 486n5 elegies, 13–14, 20–21, 367–68 love songs and, 35–36 “Elegy” (Kniazhnina), 38–39, 391

505

506 Index “Elegy on the Death of My Beloved Sister, Countess A. M. Efimovskaia, the 29th day of October, 1798” (Dolgorukova), 367–68, 370–79 “Elegy on the Death of My Husband and on My Sister’s Illness” (Neelova), 382, 394–401 Enlightenment, 63–65, 302 Enlightenment philosophy and values, 9, 298–99 epic, 11, 12, 18–19, 24, 43, 61–63, 67, 470n4, 470n6. See also specific epic poems “Epigram” (Moskvina & Moskvina), 426, 434–35 epigrams, 19–20 “Epistle to Women, An” (Karamzin), 442. See also “Response to ‘An Epistle to Women,’ A” “Epitaph” (Dolgorukova), 378–79 “Epitaph. To Little Hope, Who Lived Only Five Hours” (Moskvina & Moskvina), 424–25, 428–29 epitaphs, 19, 20, 21, 361 European women poets, 15, 16 Europeanization of Russia, women’s part in, 302–3 False Smerdis, The (Rzhevskii), 67, 476n87 “Fate’s Decision” (A. Svin’ina), 328–33 “Felitsa” (Derzhavin), 300, 301, 480n2 “feminization” of Russian literature, Sentimentalism and, 15, 25–28, 64 first-person narrative, 47, 301 “found manuscripts,” 300–301 France, dream of Russia surpassing, 302

Freemasonry. See Masonic beliefs and ideals “Friendship” (Urusova), 69, 70, 274–77 “From the Authoress of The ‘Brook’: A Response to a Response” (Urusova), 70, 280–83 Furies (spirits of vengeance), 485n2 “Gallery, The” (Moskvina & Moskvina), 426–27, 436–39 Garden of Eden, 478n102 gender ungendered poems, 46 See also women gender roles changes in, 6 See also women gender terminology, 63 genre in early modern Russian literature, 17–25, 35–36 gentry stoicism, 44 golden age, 473n40, 474n62 Golden Age of Russian literature, 302, 425n6 dawn of, 28 “Gratitude” (A. Svin’ina), 327–29, 332–35 grief, 27, 362, 368, 391, 425. See also “Elegy on the Death of My Beloved Sister”; Heroides; melancholy Heroides (Urusova), 59, 65–70, 152–273, 302 “Hope.” See “Epitaph. To Little Hope, Who Lived Only Five Hours” “Hope” (Derzhavin), 425n6, 486n2 “I am Leaving for the Wilds” (Zubova), 23, 319–20, 322–25 Idamant (Khrapovitskii), 67, 479n103

Index 507 Idomeneo (Mozart), 479n103 Iliad (Homer), 475n72 imitation of nature, art as, 472n34 Inexperienced Muse, The (Bunina), 456 “Innocent Shepherdess, The” (E. Svin’ina), 327, 329, 336–39 “K Anne Aleks. Turchaninovoi.” See “To Anna Aleksandr. Turchaninova” “K bessmertnomu tvortsu Rossiady.” See “To the Immortal Creator of The Rossiada” “K biustu M. M. Kh..” See “To the Bust of M. M. Kh.” “K Mashin’ke, trekhletnei ditiati.” See “To Three-Year-Old Mashenka” “K moim chitateliam.” See “To My Readers” “K suprugu moemu, s kotorym ia v razluke.” See “To My Husband, From Whom I Am Separated” Knight of Our Time, A (Karamzin), 443 “Kogda ia v svet vstupil.” See “When I Entered into the World” laments, 45, 343. See also Heroides; “Plaintes d’une mère auprès du berceau de son fils” “Le ruisseau” (Deshoulière), 70 “Letter to d’Alembert on the Theater” (Rousseau), 63–64 letters, Russian “feminization,” 64 “Little Hope.” See “Epitaph. To Little Hope, Who Lived Only Five Hours” loneliness and longing, 71 love erotic, 329

interrupted by filial duty, 65–66 Kheraskova on, 469n3 pastoral discourse on, 329 women’s, 65 love songs, 23–24 elegies and, 35–36 male prejudice, 404, 442. See also misogynist tradition in Russia male voice, 35, 36, 301, 328 “masculine” topics, 23–24 “Mashenka.” See “To Three-YearOld Mashenka” Masonic beliefs and ideals, 44 “Maternal Feelings” (Zhukova), 381, 382, 384–85 “May Morning” (Pospelova), 349, 350, 356–59 melancholy, 60, 71, 299, 361, 392, 457. See also grief “Milon’s Sorrow” (A. Svin’ina), 328–29, 334–37 misogynist tradition in Russia, 2–5 poems that address, 27 See also male prejudice mode of narration. See first-person narrative “Moi semidesiatyi god.” See “My Seventieth Year” “Molitva.” See “Prayer, A” “Mother’s Conversation with Her Little Son, A” (Karaulova), 415, 418–21 “mother’s laments.” See “Plaintes d’une mère auprès du berceau de son fils” motifs, 18–19 mourning. See grief; melancholy Muscovy, medieval, 3 “My Seventieth Year” (Urusova), 69, 71, 292–95 “Nadezhda.” See “Hope”

508 Index narrative mode. See first-person narrative nature, 45 art as imitation of, 472n34 See also Heroides; Polion; Some Traits of Nature and Truth Nekotorye cherty prirody i istiny, ili ottenki myslei i chuvstv moikh. See Some Traits of Nature and Truth, or Traces of My Thoughts and Feelings “Nevinnaia pastushka.” See “Innocent Shepherdess, The” O tsareviche khlore. See Tale of Prince Khlor ode(s), 11, 24–25, 44, 61, 301, 348 Anacreontic, 47 celebratory, 43, 59, 68 panegyric, 24n70, 300, 349, 471n26 (see also “Felitsa”; panegyric) to royal family, 59, 67, 403 solemn, 21n60 spiritual, 21–22 triumphant, 18, 24, 43, 347, 471n26 See also “Solitary Hours”; “Stanzas on the Founding of the Russian Academy” “Oriental tales,” 300 other voice in Russia, 10–16, 27, 28 “Otvet na neodobrenie melankholicheskikh chuvstvovanii v stikhakh.” See “Response to a Rejection of Melancholy Feelings in Poetry” Palladianism, 427n10 Palladium, 474n53, 485n3 panegyric, 9, 24–25, 300, 348–49 passion, female, 65

pastoral genres, 18–19, 328–29, 472n38 perfection. See “terrible perfection” Petrine era, 5–6, 10–11 Petrine women, 5–6 “Pis’mo Kitaitsa k tatarskomu murze, zhivushchemu po delam svoim v Peterburge.” See “Chinaman’s Letter to the Tatar Murza Residing in Petersburg on Business, A” “Plaintes d’une mère auprès du berceau de son fils” (Berquin), 415–17 “poema,” 62. See also epic poetry by women, Russian terms for, 16n47 See also specific topics poets, women, 14 entries to public authorship, 15 first, 15 self-portrayals, 18 See also specific poets point of view. See first-person narrative Polion, or The Misanthrope Enlightened (Urusova), 24, 59, 62–69, 71, 78–153 “Poslanie k zhenshchinam.” See “Epistle to Women, An” “Prayer, A” (Kheraskova), 22, 45, 52–53 “Prayer, A” (Pospelova), 349, 352–53 prejudice, 482n21 Pugachev Rebellion, 8 rank, 472n33 Raspuskaiushchaiasia roza ili raznyia sochineniia v proze i stikhakh. See Blooming Rose, or Various Compositions in Prose and Verse, The

Index 509 “Razgovor materi s malen’kim ee synom.” See “Mother’s Conversation with Her Little Son, A” reason, 298 religious poetry, 21–22 “Reproach to Men, A” (Bolotnikova), 27, 442, 444–47 “Reshenie sud’by.” See “Fate’s Decision” “Response to a Rejection of Melancholy Feelings in Poetry” (Turchaninova), 362–65 “Response to ‘An Epistle to Women,’ A” (Bolotnikova), 27–28, 442, 443, 448–53 “Rinaldo to Armida” (Kheraskov), 476n86 “Ruchei.” See “Brook, The” Russian Alexandrine, 67 Russian historical context, 1–2 Russian Orthodox Church, 2, 3, 404 Rytsar’ nashego vremeni. See Knight of Our Time, A “Self-Epitaph” (Turchaninova), 361–62, 364, 365 selflessness, feminine, 425 sensibility, 482n2 Sentimental cult of friendship and feeling, 69 Sentimentalism, 64, 328, 329, 343, 349, 361, 441–42 and “feminization” of Russian literature, 15, 25–28 height of Russian, 70 rise of, 9–10 trends of late-18th-century, 442 Sentimentalist ideals, 328 Sentimentalist rhetoric, male, 442 Sentimentalist trends, 342, 349 of 1790s, 368 serfdom, 8, 404, 472n38 sexism. See male prejudice

signing poems in which author adopts male persona, 36n12 “Smertnyi odr.” See “Deathbed, The” “Solitary Hours” (Urusova), 70, 71, 284–87 “Solitude” (Pospelova), 22, 349, 354–55 Some Traits of Nature and Truth, or Traces of My Thoughts and Feelings (Pospelova), 348, 349 “Song of the Steppe” (Urusova), 70–71, 286–91 “Sonnet” (Kheraskova), 22, 46–47, 54–55 sonnets, Russian, 46–47 spiritual ode, 21–22 spirituality, 71 “Spring” (Urusova), 69, 272–75 St. Petersburg, 2n5 Stansy na uchrezhdenie Rossiiskoi Akademii. See “Stanzas on the Founding of the Russian Academy” Stanzas, 44–45 “Stanzas,” 50–51, 56–57 “Stanzas on the Founding of the Russian Academy” (Sushkova), 299, 301, 302, 312–17 “Step’naia pesn’.” See “Song of the Steppe” “Stikhi pisannye v zhestokoi i opasnoi bolezni.” See “Verses Written in a Cruel and Dangerous Illness” Sumarokov school, 22 syllabic vs. syllabotonic verse, 17–18, 17n50 Table of Ranks, 472n33 Tale of Prince Khlor (Catherine the Great), 300 Telemakhida (Trediakovsky), 63 terem, 4–6

510 Index “terrible perfection,” 28n77 themes, 18–19 “thou”/”you” distinction, 30 “To Anna Aleksandr. Turchaninova” (Urusova), 69, 71, 290–93 “To Little Hope.” See “Epitaph. To Little Hope, Who Lived Only Five Hours” “To Mikhail Matveevich Kheraskov” (Urusova), 60, 61, 72–77 “To My Husband, From Whom I Am Separated” (Zhukova), 382, 386–89 “To My Readers” (Murzina), 27, 404–13 “To the Bust of M. M. Kh.” (N. Magnitskaia), 343–45 “To the Immortal Creator of The Rossiada” (A. Magnitskaia), 342–45 “To Three-Year-Old Mashenka” (Moskvina & Moskvina), 426, 432–35 tragedy, 43 “Uedinennye chasy.” See “Solitary Hours” “Verses Written in a Cruel and Dangerous Illness” (Dolgorukova), 367, 368, 370, 371 “Vesna.” See “Spring” Vladimir and Iaropolk (Kniazhnin), 478n96 “Vladimir and Rogneda” (painting by Losenko), 478n96 Vladimir the Great (Kliucharev), 67, 477n96 Westernization of Russia, Peter the Great’s, 4–6, 10 “When I Entered into the World” (Sumarokov), 46 women, Russian



cloistered into separate quarters, 4 (see also terem) and the context of Russia’s nascent literary culture, 10–16 female rule and the age of empresses, 6–10 and the misogynist tradition in Russia, 2–5 opening act in the history of Russian women’s writing, 36 scorned, 65–66 subservient role of, 442 (see also misogynist tradition in Russia) See also specific topics women poets, model for, 43 women’s equality, 404 Zaire (Voltaire), 473n44 zhenskaia poezia (women’s poetry), 16n47

Index of Names Aeolus, 475n70 Anacreon, 47, 61, 75, 470n7 Berquin, Arnaud, 415, 416 Blank, Boris Karlovich, 423, 424, 455 Bolotnikova, Maria Petrovna, 27–28, 441–43 Bunina, Anna Petrovna, 7–8, 13, 28, 60, 455–58 Cambyses II, 476n87 Catherine the Great (Catherine II), 6–9, 7n24, 9, 9n31, 14n42, 22, 25, 25n31, 33, 67n25, 70n30, 297–302, 319, 425, 427, 474n53, 475n77, 476n87, 480n120, 481n9, 481n17, 482n20, 485–486n3 Cicero, Marcus Tullius, 471n25 Dashkova, Ekaterina Romanovna, 7n24, 9, 25, 299, 301, 302, 482n19 Derzhavin, Gavrilo Romanovich, 25, 41, 59–60, 67, 71, 300 Derzhavina, Ekaterina Iakovlevna, 67–68 Deshoulière, Mme., 70, 299 Dolgorukov, Ivan Mikhailovich, 21, 381, 441n2 Dolgorukova, Elizaveta Mikhailovna (m. Seletskaia), 21, 367–68, 381, 392 Gessner, Salomon, 42, 43 Hässler, Johann, 426–27 Homer, 470n4, 475nn70–72 Karamzin, Nikolai Mikhailovich, 342, 348, 423, 442, 443

Karaulova, Varvara Aleksandrovna, 415–17 Kheraskov, Mikhail Matveevich, 14, 22, 41, 59–62, 66, 298, 299, 327, 328, 341–43 Kheraskova, Elizaveta Vasil’evna (née Neronova), 22, 41–49, 59, 69–70, 298 Khrapovitskii, Aleksandr Vasil’evich, 67, 297, 479n103 Khrapovitskii, Mikhail Vasil’evich, 297 Kliucharev, Fedor Petrovich, 67n24, 67 Kniazhnin, Iakov Borisovich, 13n42, 33–34 Kniazhnina, Ekaterina Aleksandrovna (née Sumarokova), 13–14, 20–21, 23, 33–36, 391, 392, 415 Lomonosov, Mikhail Vasil’evich, 11, 24, 34, 61, 341 Losenko, Anton Pavlovich, 478n96 Magnitskaia, Aleksandra Leont’evna, 341–43 Magnitskaia, Natalia Leont’evna, 341–43 Moskvina, Elizaveta Osipovna, 20, 423–27 Moskvina, Maria Osipovna, 423–27 Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, 479n103 Murzina, Aleksandra Petrovna, 27–28, 403–5 Neelova, Elizaveta Sergeevna (née Buturlina), 21, 381, 382, 391–92

511

512 Index of Names Nilova, Elizaveta Kornil’evna, 391n1 Novikov, Nikolai Ivanovich, 9, 9n31, 33n1, 42, 69, 70n30, 298, 319 Orpheus, 487n10 Ovid, 65–66 Paul I, 403 Pavlova, Karolina Karlovna, 404 Peter the Great, 1–2, 4–6, 10 Podshivalov, Vasilii Sergeevich, 327, 347, 423 Pomona, 480nn120–21 Pospelova, Maria Alekseevna, 347–50 Radishchev, Aleksandr Nikolaevich, 8 Rostopchina, Evodokia Petrovna, 298 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 17, 63–64 Rzhevskii, Aleksei Andreevich, 67, 476n87, 477n89 Sappho, 43, 47, 61–62, 77, 470n9, 476n81 Starova, Natalia Ivanovna, 328 Sumarokov, Aleksandr Petrovich, 1, 11, 14n42, 19, 20, 24, 33–35, 46–47, 66, 302, 391, 477n86 Sushkova, Maria Vasil’evna (née Khrapovitskaia), 25, 297–303, 362 Svin’ina, Anastasia Petrovna, 19, 327–29 Svin’ina, Ekaterina Petrovna, 327–29 Trediakovsky, Vasilii Kirillovich, 11, 12, 24 Trubetskoi, Nikolai Nikitich, 69 Turchaninova, Anna Aleksandrovna, 71, 361–63

Urusova, Ekaterina Sergeevna, 19, 24, 41–42, 59–71, 342, 361, 457 Voltaire, François Marie Arouet de, 302 Zhukov, Vasilii Mikhailovich, 391 Zhukova, Anna Sergeevna (née Buturlina), 381–82 Zubova, Maria Voinovna (née Rimskaia-Korsakova), 23, 319–20