Eugene Onegin ( without commentary )

XXXIII

Ridding itself of its damp cork, the bottle pops; the wine fizzes; and now with solemn mien, 4 long tortured by his stanza, Triquet stands up; before him the assembly maintains deep silence.

Tatiana's scarce alive; Triquet, 8 addressing her, a slip of paper in his hand, proceeds to sing, off key. Claps, acclamations, salute him. She must drop the bard a curtsy; 12 whereat the poet, modest although great, is first to drink her health and hands to her the stanza.