“He is in a hurry, he is going home!” Liputin tried to persuade him. “He’ll tell Lizaveta Nikolaevna tomorrow.”

“Lizaveta!” he yelled again. “Stay, don’t go! A variation:

‘Among the Amazons a star,

Upon her steed she flashes by,

And smiles upon me from afar,

The child of aris‑to‑cra‑cy!’

To a Starry Amazon.