Текст книги "7 shorts stories more by O. Henry. Книга для чтения на английском языке"

Автор книги: O. Henry

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Предисловие учебного издания

Итак, это четвертая книжка из серии книг для чтения на английском языке и третья книга рассказов О. Генри. Мы очень любим этого автора за его остроумие и краткость и считаем, что его работы больше всего подходят для начального чтения на языке оригинала. Впрочем, тут есть одно но. О. Генри легко читается только в упрощенном варианте текста. Оригинальный О. Генри очень сложен, цветист и неудобоварим для тех, кто только начинает грызть гранит английских наук.

В этой книге семь рассказов с текстом, адаптированным мной, Романом Зинзером, преподавателем английского. Что такое адаптированный текст? Это короткие предложения и общеупотребимые слова. Я старался уменьшить насыщенность текста прилагательными, причастными и деепричастными оборотами, сократил описания и заменил редкие слова на частые в использовании. Да, грамматика, времена в этой адаптированной книге тоже стали проще. В оригинале черт ногу сломит, уверяю вас.

Текст в этой книге устроен следующим образом: жирным шрифтом выделены сложные места (которые, возможно, вам и не покажутся сложными – все зависит от уровня ваших знаний), и некоторые ключевые моменты рассказа. Сразу за жирным текстом в скобках курсивом будет мой перевод и, если надо, его пояснение. В большинстве случаев мой перевод будет буквальным, слово в слово, что не всегда красиво звучит по-русски, но так лучше для понимания текста. Плюс весь мой курсив стоит в том числе, роде и падеже, в каком он нужен для правильного перевода.

Что еще важно, прежде чем вы начнете читать? Я перевел только сложные места текста. Остальное – ваша работа. Вам точно потребуется словарь и место, куда вы будете записывать новые слова. Тогда с каждым прочитанным рассказом ваш английской будет становиться лучше. Я уверен, что учебные книги с полным переводом текста, будь он построчный или кусками – это плохие учебные книги. Также, как и двуязычные издания, где на одной странице идет английский текст, а на соседней – его дословный перевод. Почему это плохо? Это слишком облегчает задачу читателя. Когда вы не работаете, не ищете в словаре новые слова, не думаете над переводом всего предложения, а просто подсматриваете в готовое, вы не учитесь, не привыкаете к структуре английского языка, а просто считываете. Чтение на английском должно быть достаточно сложным, чтобы оно было полезным. По той же причине в конце книги нет словаря, как это обычно бывает. Это ваша работа, а не моя записывать новые слова, переводить их и запоминать. Да, времени уйдет больше, это скучно, но, если не поленитесь и сделаете это, ваши знания и навыки станут лучше. А словарь в конце книги будет заброшен сразу же после прочтения. Я такое чтение за глаза называю халтурой, а читателей таких книжек – халтурщиками.

Приятного чтения, главное, установите на ваш телефон хороший словарь, записывайте новые слова и составляйте с ними предложения, которые тоже лучше записывать. Тогда все запомнится. Удачи и спасибо за чтение.

Преподаватель английского языка

Роман Зинзер

zinzer-studio.com

@romanzinzer

Transients |Бродяги| in Arcadia

Here is a certain hotel on Broadway that is very pleasant in the summer. Not many people have heard |слышали о нем хоть раз| about it. It is wide and cool |прохладный|. Its rooms have walls of dark wood. There are green trees around it, and soft winds. It has all the pleasures of mountain living, and none of the pains |буквально —никаких болей. Лучше – никаких недостатков|. You will eat better fish than you could catch for yourself in streams in the hills. You will have better meat than a hunter brings home from the forest.

A few |Лишь немногие| have discovered this cool spot in the hot summer of New York. You will see these few guests |редких гостей|, eating dinner in the hotel restaurant. They are happy to be there, and happy to know that they are very few. They feel especially wise because they have found this delightful place.

More waiters than necessary are always near. They bring what is wanted before anyone asks for it.

The pleasing distant noise of Broadway sounds like running water in a forest. At every footstep |На каждом шагу|, the guests turn quickly and look. They are afraid that the restless pleasure-seekers |не знающие устали искатели удовольствий| will find their hotel and destroy its pleasant quiet |тишину|.

And so these few |эти немногие| live during the hot season. They enjoy the delights of mountain and seashore. All is brought to them in their Broadway hotel.

This summer a lady came to the hotel giving this name: “Madame Héloise D’Arcy Beaumont.”

The name was like a name in the story of a great romance. And Madame Beaumont was the kind of lady the Hotel Lotus loved. She was beautiful and her manner was very fine. Everyone wished to serve her |оказать ей услугу|. The other guests believed that as a guest she was perfection.

This perfect guest did not often leave the hotel. In this, she was like the other guests of the Hotel Lotus. To enjoy that hotel, one needed to forget the city. New York might have been |был как будто бы| miles away. At night sometimes one might go out. But during the hot day one |человек, постоялец этого отеля| remained in the cool shade of the Lotus.

Madame was alone in the Hotel Lotus. She was alone as a queen is alone, because of her high position. She rose from bed late in the morning. She was then a sweet, soft person who seemed to shine quietly.

But at dinner she was different. She would wear a beautiful dress. I cannot find words fine enough to tell about it. Always there were red flowers at her shoulder. When the head waiter |главный официант| saw a dress like this, he met it at the door. You thought of Paris when you saw it, and of the theater and of old romances.

A story about Madame Beaumont was told |история рассказывалась| among the guests in the Hotel Lotus. It was said |Поговаривали… Стандартная фраза в английском, когда надо сказать, что что-то обсуждалось, но неважно кем именно| that she was a woman who had traveled |объездила . Had traveled – это время значит, что мир она объездила к моменту, когда заселилась в отель| all over the world. It was said that she knew the most important people everywhere. It was said that in her white hands she held the future of certain |некоторых| nations.

It was no surprise, they said, that such a lady should choose the Hotel Lotus. It was the most desirable and the most restful place in America during the heat of summer.

On the third day of Madame Beaumont’s stay in the hotel, a young man entered as a guest. His clothes were quiet |здесь – скромная| but good. His face was pleasant. His expression was that of a man who had traveled and could understand the world. He said that he would remain three or four days. He asked about the sailing of certain ships |отплытии некоторых кораблей|. He seemed to like this hotel the best of all he had known.

The young man put his name on the list of hotel guests: Harold Farrington. It was a name with a fine sound. And the young man belonged perfectly in the quiet life of the Lotus. In one day he became like all the other guests. Like them he had his table and his waiter. He also had the same fear that the wrong people might suddenly discover this hotel and destroy its peace.

After dinner on the next day, Madame Beaumont dropped something as she passed |когда проходила мимо| Harold Farrington’s table. He picked it up and, following her, returned it. He spoke only a few quiet words as he did this, and she was pleased |ей понравились| by his good manners. She knew that he was a gentleman.

Guests of the Lotus seemed to understand each other very easily. Perhaps it was the result of having discovered this Broadway hotel. Guests felt sure that only especially fine people would enjoy the cool delights of the Lotus. Now, very quickly, a sudden friendship grew between Farrington and Madame Beaumont. They stood and talked for a few moments.

“I have seen too much of the usual summer hotels,” said Madame Beaumont, with a small but sweet smile. “Why go to the mountains or the seashore |морской берег|? We cannot escape noise and dust there. The people who make noise and dust follow us there.”

“Even on the ocean,” said Farrington, sadly, “those same people are all around us. What shall we do |Что же нам следует сделать| when they discover the Lotus?”

“I hope they don’t discover the Lotus this week,” said Madame. “I know only one other place I like as well |так же как и это. В большинстве случаев фраза as well в конце предложения значит «заодно» или «также»|. It is the beautiful home of a prince in the mountains in Europe.”

“The best people,” said Farrington, “are seeking for the quiet places, like this one, where they can escape the crowds |сбежать от толпы|.”

“I promise myself three more days of this delightful rest,” said Madame Beaumont. “The next day my ship sails.”

Harold Farrington’s eyes showed that he was sorry |ему было жаль|. “I too must leave then,” he said. “But I am not sailing for Europe.”

“We cannot stay here forever, though it is so delightful,” said Madame Beaumont. “I like it better |Здесь мне нравится больше| than my usual life, which is too full of people. I shall |у shall в английском два значения: 1) будущего времени (как в этом предложении), 2) «следует». В современном английском shall как указатель будущего времени давно уже вытеснен will, однако смысл «cледует» до сих пор актуален: Shall I open the window? – а не следует ли мне открыть окно?| never forget my week in the Hotel Lotus.”

“Nor shall I,” |Я тоже не забуду. Nor это русское «ни», который используется в предложениях типа «я тоже не» или «я не пью ни кофе, ни чая»: I drink neither coffee nor tea или (без neither): I don’t drink coffee nor tea| said Farrington in a low voice. “And I shall never like the ship that carries you away |увезет вас в дальние края|.”

On their last evening the two sat together at a little table. A waiter brought them something cool |прохладное. Не крутое. Во времена О.Генри такого смысла у слова cool еще не было| to eat.

Madame Beaumont was wearing the same beautiful dress. She seemed thoughtful |задумчивой|.

When she had finished eating, she took out a dollar.

“Mr. Farrington,” she said, with the smile that everyone in the Lotus loved, “I want to tell you something. I’m going to leave early tomorrow morning because I must go back to work. I work selling |продавая| women’s clothes at Casey’s shop. That dollar is all the money I have. I won’t have more until I get paid |мне заплатят| at the end of the week. You’re a real gentleman and you’ve been good to me. I wanted to tell you before I went.

“For a year I’ve been planning to come here. Each week I put aside |откладывала| a little of my pay, so that I would have enough money. I wanted to live one week like a rich lady. I wanted to get up in the morning when I wished. I wanted to be served by waiters. I wanted to have the best of everything. Now I’ve done it, and I’ve been happier than I ever was before. And now I’m going back to work.

“I wanted to tell you about it, Mr. Farrington, because I – I thought you liked me, and I – I liked you. This week I’ve told you many things that weren’t true. I told you things I’ve read about. They never happened to me. I’ve been living in a story |Эту неделю я жила в выдуманной истории|. It wasn’t real. I wanted you to think I was a great lady.

“This dress I’m wearing – it’s the only pretty dress I own. I haven’t paid for it yet |Я за него на настоящий момент еще не расплатилась|. I’m paying for it a little at a time.

“The price was seventy-five dollars. It was made for me at O’Dowd and Levinsky’s shop. I paid ten dollars first, and now I have to pay a dollar a week until it’s all paid.

“And that’s all I have to say, Mr. Farrington, except that my name is Mamie Siviter, and not Madame Beaumont. Thank you for listening to me. This dollar is the dollar I’m going to pay for my dress tomorrow. And now I’ll go up to my room.”

As Harold Farrington listened, his face had not changed. When she had finished, he took out a small book and began to write in it. Then he pulled out the small page with his writing on it |вытащил листок с какими-то его записями|, and gave it to her. And he took the dollar from her hand.

“I go to work too, tomorrow morning,” he said. “And I decided to begin now. That paper says you’ve paid your dollar for this week. I’ve been working for O’Dowd and Levinsky for three years. Strange, isn’t it? We both had the same idea. I always wanted to stay at a good hotel. I get twenty dollars a week. Like you, I put aside a little money at a time, until I had enough. Listen, Mamie. Will you go to the pleasure park on Coney Island with me on pay day?” |в какой-нибудь из рабочих дней|

The girl who had been Madame Héloise D’Arcy Beaumont smiled.

“I’d love to go, Mr. Farrington. Coney will be all right, although we did live here |хотя мы и жили| with rich people for a week.”

They could hear the night noises of the hot city. Inside the Hotel Lotus it was cool. The waiter stood near, ready to get anything they asked for.

Madame Beaumont started up to her room for the last time.

And he said, “Forget that ‘Harold Farrington,’ will you? McManus is the name—James McManus. Some call me Jimmy.”

“Good night, Jimmy,” said Madame.

The Count |Граф| and the Wedding Guest

Andy Donovan had his dinner each evening in the house on Second Avenue where he lived in a furnished room |в арендованной меблированной комнате|. One evening at dinner he met a new guest, a young lady, Miss Conway.

Miss Conway was small and quiet. She was wearing a plain brown dress. She seemed interested in very little |мало что ее интересовало| except her dinner, and her dinner did not interest her very much. She looked up at Mr. Donovan and spoke his name, and then began to eat again.

Mr. Donovan had a smile that everyone liked. He smiled at her and then thought no more |и больше не думал| about her.

Two weeks later Andy was sitting outside the house enjoying the cool evening. He heard a movement behind him. He turned his head, and could not turn it back |отвернуться| again.

Coming out of the door was Miss Conway. She was wearing a night-black dress of soft, thin cloth. Her hat was black. She was putting black gloves on her hands. There was no white and no color |Не было ни белого, ни какого-либо другого цвета| anywhere about her. All black. Someone in her family had died. Mr. Donovan was certain |был уверен| about that.

Her rich golden hair lay soft and thick at the back of her neck. Her face was not really pretty, but her large gray eyes made it almost beautiful. She looked up into the sky with an expression of sadness.

All black, readers. Think of her. All black, and that golden hair, and looking sadly far away.

Mr. Donovan suddenly decided to think about Miss Conway. He stood up.

“It’s a fine, clear evening |Какой прекрасный и безоблачный вечер|, Miss Conway,” he said.

“It is to them with the heart to enjoy it |Лишь для тех, кто может ему радоваться|, Mr. Donovan,” said Miss Conway. She took a deep slow breath.

“I hope no one—no one of your family—has died?”

“Death has taken |Смерть забрала|,” said Miss Conway, “not one of my family, but one who—I must not speak of my troubles to you, Mr. Donovan.”

“Why not, Miss Conway? Perhaps I could understand.”

Miss Conway smiled a little smile. And oh, her face was sadder than when she was not smiling.

“Laugh and the world laughs with you,” she said. “But the world is not interested in sadness. I have learned that, Mr. Donovan. I have no friends in this city. But you have been kind to me. Thank you for it.”

He had done nothing except offer her the salt at dinner |Он не сделал ничего доброго в ее отношении, кроме как предложил ей соль за ужином|.

“It’s not easy to be alone in New York,” said Mr. Donovan. “But when New York is friendly, it’s very friendly. Shall we take a little walk in the park? It might be good for you.”

“Thanks, Mr. Donovan. I would enjoy it. But I don’t want my sadness to make you sad.”

They went through the open gates of the park and found a quiet seat.

“We were going to be married |Мы собирались пожениться| soon,” said Miss Conway. “He was a real Count. He had land and a big house in Italy. Count Fernando Mazzini was his name. My father didn’t want me to marry him. Once we ran away |убежали| to get married, and my father followed and took me home. I was afraid they were going to fight |собирались драться|.

“But then my father agreed. Fernando went to Italy to make everything ready for me. My father’s |was| very proud. Fernando wanted to give me several thousand dollars for new clothes, and my father said no. When Fernando went away, I came to the city. I work in a shop.

“Three days ago I had a letter from Italy. It said that Fernando had been killed |был убит|.

“That is why I’m wearing black. My heart has died, Mr. Donovan, with Fernando. I cannot take interest in anyone |Мне никто больше не интересен|. I should not keep you from |не следует удерживать вас от| your friends who can smile and enjoy things with you. Shall we walk back to the house?”

Now, readers, if a girl tells a man her heart has died, he wants to make it live again.

“I’m very sorry,” said Mr. Donovan. “No, we won’t walk back to the house yet. And don’t say you have no friends in this city, Miss Conway. I’m your friend, and I want you to believe that.”

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