DERZHAVIN

I saw Derzhavin only once in my life, but I shall never forget
the occasion. It was in 1815, at the public examination in the
Lyceum. When we heard that Derzhavin was coming to visit us,
we were excited. Delvig went out onto the staircase to wait for
him, and to kiss his hand, the very hand which had written
Waterfall. Derzhavin arrived. He came into the entrance hall, and
Delvig heard him asking the doorman: "Excuse me, my dear man,
where is the lavatory?" This prosaic question disillusioned Delvig,
who changed his mind, and returned to the hall. Delvig told me
all this with remarkable ingenuousness and good humour.

Derzhavin was very old. He was dressed in a uniform, and wore
velveteen boots. Our examination tired him very much. He sat
there, propping up his head with his hand. His face was expres-
sionless, his eyes dull and his lips drooping. The portrait, which
depicts him in his nightcap and dressing gown, shows him very
much as he was then.

He dozed until the very start of the Russian literature examina-
tion. It was here that he came to life; his sparkled; he was
totally transformed. Naturally it was his poems that we read out,
and his poems that were praised at every moment. He listened
with unaccustomed animation.

Finally, I was called. I read my Recollections of Tsarskoye Selo,
standing only two places away from Derzhavin. I am incapable of
describingmy state of mind. When I reached the verse, in which
I mentioned the name of Derzhavin, my adolescent voice rang out,
and my heart started to beat with intoxicated rapture... I do not
recall how i finished my reading: I do not remember where I ran
to. Derzhavin was full of admiration: he asked for me; he wanted
to embrace me. They searched for me, but I was nowhere to be
found.