Принц и нищий
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Тематика:
Английский язык
Издательство:
КАРО
Автор:
Твен Марк
Коммент., словарь:
Тигонен Е. Г.
Год издания: 2016
Кол-во страниц: 320
Возрастное ограничение: 12+
Дополнительно
Вид издания:
Художественная литература
Уровень образования:
ВО - Бакалавриат
ISBN: 978-5-9925-1139-0
Артикул: 652539.02.99
Предлагаем вниманию читателей знаменитый роман Марка Твена о двух мальчиках — принце Эдуарде и нищем Томе Кенти, которые случайно встретились, обнаружили удивительное внешнее сходство друг с другом и решили поменяться местами. Неадаптированный текст романа сопровождается подробным комментарием и словарем. Для студентов языковых вузов и всех любителей англоязычной литературы.
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УДК 372.8 ББК 81.2 Англ-93 Т 26 ISBN 978-5-9925-1139-0 Твен М. Т 26 Принц и нищий : книга для чтения на английском языке. — Санкт-Петербург : КАРО, 2016. — 320 с. — (Classical Literature). ISBN 978-5-9925-1139-0. Предлагаем вниманию читателей знаменитый роман Марка Твена о двух мальчиках — принце Эдуарде и нищем Томе Кенти, которые случайно встретились, обнаружили удивительное внешнее сходство друг с другом и решили поменяться местами. Неадаптированный текст романа сопровождается подробным комментарием и словарем. Для студентов языковых вузов и всех любителей англоязычной литературы. УДК 372.8 ББК 81.2 Англ-93 © КАРО, 2016 Оптовая торговля: Книги издательства «КАРО» можно приобрести: Интернетмагазины: в СанктПетербурге: ул. Бронницкая, 44. тел./факс: (812) 5759439, 3208479 еmail: karopiter@mail.ru, karo@peterstar.ru в Москве: ул. Стахановская, д. 24. тел./факс: (499) 1715322, 1740964 Почтовый адрес: 111538, г. Москва, а/я 7, еmail: moscow@karo.net.ru, karo.moscow@gmail.com WWW.BOOKSTREET.RU WWW.LABIRINT.RU WWW.MURAVEISHOP.RU WWW.MYSHOP.RU WWW.OZON.RU Марк Твен THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER ПРИНЦ И НИЩИЙ Комментарии и словарь Е. Г. Тигонен Ответственный редактор О. П. Панайотти Технический редактор Я. В. Попова Корректор Е. Г. Тигонен Издательство «КАРО», ЛР № 065644 195027, СанктПетербург, Свердловская наб., д. 60, (812) 5705497 WWW.KARO.SPB.RU Гигиенический сертификат № 78.01.07.953.П.324 от 10.02.2012 Подписано в печать 22.07.2016. Формат 70 х 100 1/32. Бумага газетная. Печать офсетная. Усл. печ. л. 12,9. Тираж 2000 экз. Заказ № 07.06 Отпечатано в типографии «КАРО»
Foreword I will set down a tale as it was told to me by one who had it of his father, which latter had it of HIS father, this last having in like manner had it of HIS father — and so on, back and still back, three hundred years and more, the fathers transmitting it to the sons and so preserving it. It may be history, it may be only a legend, a tradition. It may have happened, it may not have happened: but it COULD have happened. It may be that the wise and the learned believed it in the old days; it may be that only the unlearned and the simple loved it and credited it. Th e quality of mercy … is twice bless’d; It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes; ’Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes Th e throned monarch better than his crown. Th e Merchant of Venice To Those good-mannered and agreeable children Susie and Clara Clemens this book is aff ectionately inscribed by their father.
Chapter I Th e Birth of the Prince and the Pauper In the ancient city of London, on a certain autumn day in the second quarter of the sixteenth century, a boy was born to a poor family of the name of Canty1, who did not want him. On the same day another English child was born to a rich family of the name of Tudor, who did want him. All England wanted him too. England had so longed for him, and hoped for him, and prayed God for him, that, now that he was really come, the people went nearly mad for joy. Mere acquaintances hugged and kissed each other and cried. Everybody took a holiday, and high and low, rich and poor, feasted and danced and sang, and got very mellow; and they kept this up for days and nights together. By day, London was a sight to see2, with gay banners waving from every balcony and housetop, and splendid pageants marching along. By night, it was again a sight to see, with its great bonfi res at every corner, and its troops of revellers making merry around them. Th ere was no talk in all England but of the new baby, Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales3, who 1 of the name of Canty — (уст.) по фамилии Кенти (canty = бойкий, веселый, живой) 2 was a sight to see — (разг.) представлял собой очень красивое зрелище 3 Prince of Wales — принц Уэльский, титул наследника престола
lay lapped in silks and satins, unconscious of all this fuss, and not knowing that great lords and ladies were tending him and watching over him — and not caring, either. But there was no talk about the other baby, Tom Canty, lapped in his poor rags, except among the family of paupers whom he had just come to trouble with his presence. Chapter II Tom’s Early Life Let us skip a number of years. London was fi ft een hundred years old, and was a great town — for that day. It had a hundred thousand inhabitants — some think double as many1. Th e streets were very narrow, and crooked, and dirty, especially in the part where Tom Canty lived, which was not far from London Bridge2. Th e houses were of wood, with the second story projecting over the fi rst, and the third sticking its elbows out beyond the second. Th e higher the houses grew, the broader they grew. Th ey were skeletons of strong criss-cross beams, with solid material between, coated with plaster. Th e beams were painted red or blue 1 some think double as many — (уст.) некоторые полагают, что вдвое больше 2 London Bridge — Лондонский мост (не путать с Тауэрским мостом), знаменит благодаря старой детской песенке “London bridge is falling down”
or black, according to the owner’s taste, and this gave the houses a very picturesque look. Th e windows were small, glazed with little diamond-shaped panes, and they opened outward, on hinges, like doors. Th e house which Tom’s father lived in was up a foul little pocket called Off al Court, out of Pudding Lane. It was small, decayed, and rickety, but it was packed full of wretchedly poor families. Canty’s tribe occupied a room on the third fl oor. Th e mother and father had a sort of bedstead in the corner; but Tom, his grandmother, and his two sisters, Bet and Nan, were not restricted — they had all the fl oor to themselves, and might sleep where they chose. Th ere were the remains of a blanket or two, and some bundles of ancient and dirty straw, but these could not rightly be called beds, for they were not organised; they were kicked into a general pile, mornings, and selections made from the mass at night, for service. Bet and Nan were fi ft een years old — twins. Th ey were good-hearted girls, unclean, clothed in rags, and profoundly ignorant. Th eir mother was like them. But the father and the grandmother were a couple of fi ends. Th ey got drunk whenever they could; then they fought each other or anybody else who came in the way; they cursed and swore always, drunk or sober; John Canty was a thief, and his mother a beggar. Th ey made beggars of the children, but failed to make thieves of them. Among, but not of, the dreadful rabble that inhabited
the house, was a good old priest whom the King had turned out of house and home with a pension of a few farthings, and he used to get the children aside and teach them right ways secretly. Father Andrew also taught Tom a little Latin, and how to read and write; and would have done the same with the girls, but they were afraid of the jeers of their friends, who could not have endured such a queer accomplishment in them. All Off al Court was just such another hive as Canty’s house. Drunkenness, riot and brawling were the order, there, every night and nearly all night long. Broken heads were as common as hunger in that place. Yet little Tom was not unhappy. He had a hard time of it, but did not know it. It was the sort of time that all the Off al Court boys had, therefore he supposed it was the correct and comfortable thing. When he came home empty-handed at night, he knew his father would curse him and thrash him fi rst, and that when he was done the awful grandmother would do it all over again and improve on it; and that away in the night his starving mother would slip to him stealthily with any miserable scrap or crust she had been able to save for him by going hungry herself, notwithstanding she was oft en caught in that sort of treason and soundly beaten for it by her husband. No, Tom’s life went along well enough, especially in summer. He only begged just enough to save himself, for the laws against mendicancy were stringent, and
the penalties heavy; so he put in a good deal of his time listening to good Father Andrew’s charming old tales and legends about giants and fairies, dwarfs and genii, and enchanted castles, and gorgeous kings and princes. His head grew to be full of these wonderful things, and many a night as he lay in the dark on his scant and offensive straw, tired, hungry, and smarting from a thrashing, he unleashed his imagination and soon forgot his aches and pains in delicious picturings to himself of the charmed life of a petted prince in a regal palace. One desire came in time to haunt him day and night: it was to see a real prince, with his own eyes. He spoke of it once to some of his Off al Court comrades; but they jeered him and scoff ed him so unmercifully that he was glad to keep his dream to himself aft er that. He oft en read the priest’s old books and got him to explain and enlarge upon them. His dreamings and readings worked certain changes in him, by-and-by. His dream-people were so fi ne that he grew to lament his shabby clothing and his dirt, and to wish to be clean and better clad. He went on playing in the mud just the same, and enjoying it, too; but, instead of splashing around in the Th ames solely for the fun of it, he began to fi nd an added value in it because of the washings and cleansings it aff orded. Tom could always fi nd something going on around the Maypole in Cheapside, and at the fairs; and now and then he and the rest of London had a chance to see a military
parade when some famous unfortunate was carried prisoner to the Tower, by land or boat. One summer’s day he saw poor Anne Askew1 and three men burned at the stake in Smithfi eld, and heard an ex-Bishop preach a sermon to them which did not interest him. Yes, Tom’s life was varied and pleasant enough, on the whole. By-and-by Tom’s reading and dreaming about princely life wrought such a strong eff ect upon him that he began to act the prince, unconsciously. His speech and manners became curiously ceremonious and courtly, to the vast admiration and amusement of his intimates. But Tom’s infl uence among these young people began to grow now, day by day; and in time he came to be looked up to, by them, with a sort of wondering awe, as a superior being. He seemed to know so much! and he could do and say such marvellous things! and withal, he was so deep and wise! Tom’s remarks, and Tom’s performances, were reported by the boys to their elders; and these, also, presently began to discuss Tom Canty, and to regard him as a most gift ed and extraordinary creature. Full-grown people brought their perplexities to Tom for solution, and were oft en astonished at the wit and wisdom of his decisions. In fact he was become a hero to all who knew him except his own family — these, only, saw nothing in him. 1 Anne Askew — Энн Эскью (1521–1546), протестантка; из-за религиозных разногласий с католической церковью была подвергнута пыткам и сожжена в Смитфилде
Privately, aft er a while, Tom organised a royal court! He was the prince; his special comrades were guards, chamberlains, equerries, lords and ladies in waiting1, and the royal family. Daily the mock prince was received with elaborate ceremonials borrowed by Tom from his romantic readings; daily the great aff airs of the mimic kingdom were discussed in the royal council, and daily his mimic highness issued decrees to his imaginary armies, navies, and viceroyalties. Aft er which, he would go forth in his rags and beg a few farthings, eat his poor crust, take his customary cuff s and abuse, and then stretch himself upon his handful of foul straw, and resume his empty grandeurs in his dreams. And still his desire to look just once upon a real prince, in the fl esh, grew upon him, day by day, and week by week, until at last it absorbed all other desires, and became the one passion of his life. One January day, on his usual begging tour, he tramped despondently up and down the region round about Mincing Lane and Little East Cheap, hour aft er hour, bare-footed and cold, looking in at cook-shop windows and longing for the dreadful pork-pies and other deadly inventions displayed there — for to him these were dainties fi t for the angels; that is, judging by the smell, they were — for it had never been his good 1 ladies in waiting — (уст.) фрейлины, статс-дамы