But Lenski's jealous passion would brook no interference; and he continued to pour such angry reproaches and stinging taunts upon Onegin, that the latter at length lost control of himself also, and, goaded beyond bearing, angrily accepted the challenge. The guests, alarmed and dismayed, at once look a hurried departure, and the ball, which had commenced so brightly, ended in confusion and gloom.
Early next morning, Lenski and Onegin, with their seconds, met in a retired part of the grounds, and there, with all the usual ceremonious etiquette, the duel was fought. Both felt sad at the thought that their long and happy friendship should end in this terrible way, and longed to utter the one word that would have reconciled them; but pride kept their lips sealed, and when the signal was given, they raised their pistols and fired instantaneously.
Lenski fell to the ground at once; and when Onegin, who was untouched, ran forward with the seconds, and clasped him in his arms, he found to his horror that he was dead.
Full of grief and remorse that he had thus for the sake of a foolish code of honour slain the dearest friend of his youth, Onegin, dazed and miserable, left the neighbourhood at once; and for several years afterwards he wandered restlessly from country to country, in the vain endeavour to drown the tormenting regrets and harrowing recollections that haunted his brain.
But neither change of scene nor wildest adventure could succeed in bringing any comfort or peace to his wounded and remorseful heart; and at last, overruled by an irresistible longing to return to the scene of his trouble, he travelled to Russia once more, and upon arriving in St Petersburg, was sought out by his old friends, and induced to remain there for a while. On receiving an invitation to a magnificent ball from one of his near relations, Prince Gremin, a nobleman of high position and honours, he was persuaded to accept this; and when the evening arrived, he proceeded to attend the function, though very much against his will.
But even such a brilliant scene as this could not bring distraction to the torn and weary heart of Eugene Onegin; and as he wandered restlessly from room to room, his self-accusing thoughts still haunted him, and the memory of the fatal duel was again pictured in his mind as vividly as ever. Presently, however, he noticed a stir among the guests, and a subdued murmur of admiration; and following their gaze, he saw that the centre of attraction was a beautiful young woman, richly clad, and sparkling with jewels, who was passing from one group to another with easy dignity, bestowing smiles and gracious words on all. A second glance told Onegin that this brilliant figure was Tatiana, the young daughter of Frau Larina, the romantic maiden who had so impulsively offered him her fresh girlish love a few years ago; Tatiana, no longer a dreamy child, but grown up into a lovely, soulful woman, gracious and self-controlled, a very queen even amidst this dazzling array of fair women.
It was indeed Tatiana, who had been taken from her quiet country home to become the admired wife of Prince Gremin, who, though many years older than she, yet loved her tenderly, and did all in his power to make her happy; and the fair young girl, though she could not give him love, yet made him a dutiful and devoted wife, and soon learned to bear her exalted position with becoming dignity.
Now, as Onegin gazed once again upon Tatiana, always interesting to him, but doubly so in her matured beauty, with all her natural charms of mind, body and disposition intensified a hundredfold, his heart suddenly throbbed with a new and strange feeling of exaltation, and he who had thought himself dead to all passion, felt his pulses quicken and a thrill of the keenest joy pass like an electric current through his whole being.
His emotion increased presently when Prince Gremin brought his beautiful young wife forward, and introduced her to him with pride and affection; for although Tatiana greeted him with easy calm and even coldness, making no attempt to hide their former acquaintance, yet the intense look of repressed passion in her deep tender eyes told him plainly that her feeling for him had not altered, but had deepened with her growth. As she moved away again on the arm of her husband, Onegin felt the sharp pangs of jealousy for the first time in his life, and knew that he now loved this woman with his whole heart; and he was seized with a passionate desire to possess the love he had once refused.
Unable to restrain his overwhelming feelings, he determined to declare himself at all costs; and, making his way to a retired spot, he waited until Tatiana came by alone; and then, hastening towards her, trembling with emotion, he told her of his love, and implored her to grant him hers in return; but Tatiana reminded him bitterly that he had slighted her proffered affection in former years, treating it as the mere fancy of a sentimental girl, and even blaming her for her boldness.