"She ( Miss Condor) hesitated for the flirt of a second, licking her lips, not knowing whether he was being rude or ready — and here Lucette returned for her Rosepetals. ‘See you aprey,’ said Miss Condor [...] ‘You deceived me, Van. It is, it is one of your gruesome girls!’
‘I swear,’ said Van, ‘that’s she’s a perfect stranger. I wouldn’t deceive you.’
‘You deceived me many, many times when I was a little girl. If you’re doing it now tu sais que j’en vais mourir.’
‘You promised me a harem,’ Van gently rebuked her."
Ada III, ch.5, p.483
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" ‘Oh! Qui me rendra mon Hélène —’ **
‘Ach, perestagne!’
‘— et le phalène.’
‘Je t’emplie ("prie" and "supplie"), stop, Van. Tu sais que j’en vais mourir.’
‘But, but, but’ — (slapping every time his forehead) — ‘to be on the very brink of, of, of — and then have that idiot turn Keats!’"
Ada III, ch.8,p.530.

Spring in Fialta:

I held a platform ticket crumpled beyond recognition, while a song of the last century (connected, it has been rumored, with some Parisian drama of love) kept ringing and ringing in my head, having emerged, God knows why, from the music box of memory, a sobbing ballad which often used to be sung by an old maiden aunt of mine, with a face as yellow as Russian church wax, but whom nature had given such a powerful, ecstatically full voice that it seemed to swallow her up in the glory of a fiery cloud as soon as she would begin: On dit que tu te maries, tu sais que j'en vais mourir and that melody, the pain, the offense, the link between hymen and death evoked by the rhythm, and the voice itself of the dead singer, which accompanied the recollection as the sole owner of the song, gave me no rest for several hours after Nina's departure and even later arose at increasing intervals like the last flat little waves sent to the beach by a passing ship, lapping ever more infrequently and dreamily, or like the bronze agony of a vibrating belfry after the bell ringer has already reseated himself in the cheerful circle of his family.

The reference to Spring in Fialta in Ada (p.477) "To most of the Tobakoff’s first-class passengers the afternoon of June 4, 1901, in the Atlantic, on the meridian of Iceland and the latitude of Ardis, seemed little conducive to open air frolics...but Lucette was a hardy girl used to bracing winds no less than to the detestable sun. Spring in Fialta and a torrid May on Minataor, the famous artificial island, had given a nectarine hue to her limbs..."

Things get almost impossible to disentangle when we relate "Swans", "Leda" and "Helen".: Lucette drowns in Oceanus Nox. There's a goddess named Nyx or Nox, associated to Oceanus and to Nemesis. Nemesis, the goddess of retribution and envy is sometimes considered to be the mother of Helen of Troy with Zeus, also transformed in a swan. Leda could have hatched Helen from Nemesis's egg (the possible third egg in Nabokov?) The various mythological versions are conflated...

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* Graziela Schneider Urso collects as possible references: Alfred de Musset's Fréderic et Bernerette; Alphonse Daudet's Fromont jeune et Risler ainé; a chanson by T. Cazorati (1871-18790 and Alexander Dumas Son in L'Ami des femmes. Graziela S. Urso read a paper at the "Nabokov Upside Down" conferences: "Roundabout Routes of "Spring in Fialta" where she considers temporal, spatial and person inversions in some of the short stories collected in Spring in Fialta ..."

** - The initial link to Chateaubriand's mauvais enfants and to "colline," instead of Hélène, is on p.428 (ch.9)

"Oh! qui me rendra ma colline/ Et le grand chêne and my colleen! - harrowingly resembled Ada Ardis as photographed with her mother in Belladonna, a movie magazine..."

Belladonna comes up again on p.481, in relation to pictures from Ada's wedding while Lucette and Van are already sailing in the Tobakoff ship ("Your father - paid a man from Belladonna to take pictures"

A reminder, from wikipedia: "Atropa belladonna or Atropa bella-donna, commonly known as Belladonna, Devil's Berries, Death Cherries or Deadly Nightshade, is a perennial herbaceous plant ...The foliage and berries are extremely toxic, containing tropane alkaloids. These toxins include scopolamine and hyoscyamine which cause a bizarre delirium and hallucinations, and are also used as pharmaceutical anticholinergics...It has a long history of use as a medicine, cosmetic, and poison. Before the Middle Ages, it was used as an anesthetic for surgery; the ancient Romans used it as a poison (the wife of Emperor Augustus and the wife of Claudius both used it to murder contemporaries); and predating this, it was used to make poison tipped arrows. The genus name "atropa" comes from Atropos, one of the three Fates in Greek mythology, and the name "bella donna" is derived from Italian and means "beautiful woman"....The common name belladonna originates from its historic use by women - Bella Donna is Italian for beautiful lady. Drops prepared from the belladonna plant were used to dilate women's pupils, an effect considered attractive.".