Eugene Onegin ( without commentary )

108
Chapter One
XXVIII

Up to the porch our hero now has driven 3 past the hall porter, like a dart, he has flown up the marble steps, 4 has run his fingers through his hair, has entered. The ballroom is full of people; the music has already tired of dinning; the crowd is occupied with the mazurka; 8 there's all around both noise and squeeze; there clink the cavalier guard's spurs; the little feet of winsome ladies flit; upon their captivating tracks 12, flit flaming glances, and by the roar of violins is drowned the jealous whispering of fashionable women.