Английский язык с Марком Твеном. Принц и нищий / Mark Twain. The Prince and the Pauper

'He that stands there (он = тот, кто стоит там) — the rightful king of England (законный король Англии). And he shall tell you himself (и он скажет вам сам) where it lies (где она лежит) — then you will believe (тогда вы поверите) he knew it (что он знал это; to know — знать) of his own knowledge (из его собственного знания = сам). Bethink thee, my king (вспомни, мой король) — spur thy memory (пришпорь свою память) — it was the last, the very last thing (это была последняя, самая последняя вещь) thou didst that day (которую ты сделал в тот день) before thou didst rush forth from the palace (прежде чем ты ринулся прочь из дворца), clothed in my rags (одетый в мои лохмотья), to punish the soldier that insulted me (чтобы наказать солдата, который обидел меня).'

kaleidoscope [kə`laıdəskqup], suspense [səs`pens], pother [`pOðə]

Now began a movement of the gorgeous particles of that official group which was slow, scarcely perceptible, and yet steady and persistent — a movement such as is observed in a kaleidoscope that is turned slowly, whereby the components of one splendid cluster fall away and join themselves to another — a movement which, little by little, in the present case, dissolved the glittering crowd that stood about Tom Canty and clustered it together again in the neighborhood of the new-comer. Tom Canty stood almost alone. Now ensued a brief season of deep suspense and waiting — during which even the few faint-hearts still remaining near Tom Canty gradually scraped together courage enough to glide, one by one, over to the majority. So at last Tom Canty, in his royal robes and jewels, stood wholly alone and isolated from the world, a conspicuous figure, occupying an eloquent vacancy.

Now the Lord St. John was seen returning. As he advanced up the mid-aisle the interest was so intense that the low murmur of conversation in the great assemblage died out and was succeeded by a profound hush, a breathless stillness, through which his footfalls pulsed with a dull and distant sound. Every eye was fastened upon him as he moved along. He reached the platform, paused a moment, then moved toward Tom Canty with a deep obeisance, and said:

'Sire, the Seal is not there!'

A mob does not melt away from the presence of a plague-patient with more haste than the band of pallid and terrified courtiers melted away from the presence of the shabby little claimant of the Crown. In a moment he stood all alone, without a friend or supporter, a target upon which was concentrated a bitter fire of scornful and angry looks. The Lord Protector called out fiercely:

'Cast the beggar into the street, and scourge him through the town — the paltry knave is worth no more consideration!'

Officers of the guard sprang forward to obey, but Tom Canty waved them off and said:

'Back! Whoso touches him perils his life!'

The Lord Protector was perplexed in the last degree. He said to the Lord St. John: