“Once, in Bakhchisar, Catherine remembered the poems that she tried to write in Tsarskoye Selo, under the leadership of Segur, and said: “Listen, gentlemen, I will lock myself in my room alone: and you will see.” This is what she brought to us; she could not continue further: Fig 1e zorNa ai Kap, zig 4ez soiz$shz Boshtb$, Chapz un K1ozie 4'og, 4e eShez eshchongv$ (i.e. on the khan's sof, on stuffed pillows, in a ka!osk of gold, surrounded by lattices)... She thought in solitude for more than four hours! Catherine, trying to come up with something else, but in vain, and then came out with these two lines...” says de Ligne.
[fragment illegible in the scan of the first edition]
be delighted with everything she saw. Khrapovitsy wrote in his diary: “It was spoken with fervor about Tauris. The acquisition is important; the ancestors would have paid dearly for it.” The empress wrote to Eropkin: "They know very little the value of things that have disgraced the acquisitions of this region with humiliation. Kherson and Taurida will not only pay off over time, but one can hope that if St. Petersburg brings in the 8th part of the income of the Empire, then the above-mentioned places will surpass the fruits of barren places."
XY. CRIMEAN POMISHIK.
Krymsk bomber—Prince de Ligne. Even when he had just arrived in St. Petersburg to participate in Catherine’s journey, the Empress announced that “he would be granted land in the Crimea, near the Black Sea, on the very same city where, according to legend, there was a temple in which Princess Iphigene was a priestess.”
Having reached the Crimea with the empress, the prince separated from the entire company and went to the southern coast, where his estate lay. In letters to Marquis K., he enthusiastically described his pose.
“On the silvery shore of the Black Sea, on the edge of that vast stream into which all the waters of the Chetyrdakh merge, under the shadow of two ancient branched orshniks, at the foot of the rock, on which one can still see a pillar, the sad remnant of Diana’s temple, famous for the sacrifice of Jehenia; not far from
I am writing now from this rock, from which Thoas threw down the strangers, finally, into the most charming and curious place of the universe.
“I am sitting on a Turkish carpet spread out on the ground, surrounded by Tatars who look at me as I write, raising their eyes to the sky in surprise, as if at another Mohammed.
“I see the happy shores of ancient Idal and Natoli; fig, palm, olive, apricot and peach flower trees pour out sweet aromas around me, hiding the sultry rays of the sun from my eyes; sea waves shimmer at my feet with soft scales. I see, behind me, through the trees, dwellings built in the form of the amphitheater, my wild ones, who, sitting calmly on their flat roofs, serving as balconies, smoke tobacco; their cemetery gives an idea of the fields of the Elysees. imagine, it takes away my strength to write. Prostrate on my carpet, I immerse myself in thought...
"Oh, I cannot discern what is happening in my soul; I feel renewed by an invisible force. Having moved away from the pomp, grandeur, noisy celebrations, tiresome amusements and the two autocratic persons of the North and the West, whom I left on the other side of the high mountains, I finally enjoy myself to the fullest. I ask myself, where am I? And by what chance did I come here? I repeat my thoughts again. about the inconsistencies of my life...
"The night will be beautiful. The sea, tired of the day's movement, will stand motionless and present on its smooth surface a beautiful mirror in which I see my image. The evening is extremely good; I feel in my thoughts the clarity shining on the sky and the sea."
The prince remembers historical events and names associated with these places: “Perhaps OvidSh wrote here, perhaps he sat on the very place where I am sitting now... Here is the Port of Euxinsyu, which once belonged to Mithridates... I am collecting here, near this ancient Kherson, fragments of alabaster pillars; I meet the remains of water slopes and walls, representing the circle of Paris and London, “Both of these cities will disappear, like him... Returning back, I begin to approve of the idleness of my good Muslims, sitting on the roofs, crossing their arms and legs. I find among them one Albanian who understands some Italian; I order him to ask them if they are happy; or can I be useful to them, and do they know that the empress has granted them to me? They told me that they are still very happy, and that in the event of a change they will board two ships that they themselves built and go to their side, to the Turks. They show me their sheep lying on the grass; that when the time comes to gather fruits, the kaymakan comes from Bakhchisarai to take half of them...