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

'If thou do but touch him, thou animated offal (если ты только тронешь его, ты, двуногая падаль), I will spit thee like a goose (я проколю тебя как гуся)!' said Hendon, barring the way (сказал Хендон, преграждая путь) and laying his hand upon his sword-hilt (и кладя руку на рукоять меча). Canty drew back (Кэнти отступил назад). 'Now mark ye (теперь смотри),' continued Hendon (продолжал Хендон), 'I took this lad under my protection (я взял этого мальчишку под свою защиту) when a mob such as thou would have mishandled him (когда толпа, такая, как ты, плохо обходилась с ним), mayhap killed him (может быть, убила бы его); dost imagine I will desert him now to a worser fate (можешь ли ты представить себе, что я обреку его на еще худшую судьбу)? — for whether thou art his father or no (ибо отец ты ему или нет) — and sooth to say (и, по правде говоря), I think it is a lie (я думаю, это ложь) — a decent swift death (приличная быстрая смерть) were better for such a lad (была бы лучше для такого паренька) than life in such brute hands as thine (чем жизнь в таких жестоких руках, как твои). So go thy ways (так что иди своей дорогой), and set quick about it (и поторопись: «устрой быстро насчет этого»), for I like not much bandying of words (так как я не люблю много перекидываться словами; to bandy — перекидываться, обмениваться /мячом; словами, комплиментами и т. п./), being not overpatient in my nature (будучи не излишне терпеливым по своей натуре; patient — терпеливый).'

retire [rı`taıə], digress [daı`gres], seize [si:z]

Men born and reared upon the Bridge found life unendurably dull and inane elsewhere. History tells of one of these who left the Bridge at the age of seventy-one and retired to the country. But he could only fret and toss in his bed; he could not go to sleep, the deep stillness was so painful, so awful, so oppressive. When he was worn out with it, at last, he fled back to his old home, a lean and haggard specter, and fell peacefully to rest and pleasant dreams under the lulling music of the lashing waters and the boom and crash and thunder of London Bridge.

In the times of which we are writing, the Bridge furnished 'object lessons' in English history, for its children — namely, the livid and decaying heads of renowned men impaled upon iron spikes atop of its gateways. But we digress.

Hendon's lodgings were in the little inn on the Bridge. As he neared the door with his small friend, a rough voice said:

'So, thou'rt come at last! Thou'lt not escape again. I warrant thee; and if pounding thy bones to a pudding can teach thee somewhat, thou'lt not keep us waiting another time, mayhap' — and John Canty put out his hand to seize the boy.

Miles Hendon stepped in the way, and said:

'Not too fast, friend. Thou art needlessly rough, methinks. What is the lad to thee?'

'If it be any business of thine to make and meddle in others' affairs, he is my son.'

''Tis a lie!' cried the little king, hotly.

'Boldly said, and I believe thee, whether thy small head-piece be sound or cracked, my boy. But whether this scurvy ruffian be thy father or no, 'tis all one, he shall not have thee to beat thee and abuse, according to his threat, so thou prefer to abide with me.'