Mario Puzo - Крестный отец, часть 1. Английский язык с Марио Пьюзо.
In the garden Kay Adams was struck by the violet fury imprinted on the face of Luca Brasi. She asked about him. Michael had brought Kay to the wedding so that she would slowly and perhaps without too much of a shoсk, absorb the truth about his father. But so far she seemed to regard the Don as a slightly unethical businessman. Michael decided to tell her part of the truth indirectly. He explained that Luca Brasi was one of the most feared men in the Eastern underworld. His great talent, it was said, was that he could do a job of murder all by himself, without confederates, which automatically made discovery and conviction by the law almost impossible. Michael grimaced and said, "I don't know whether all that stuff is true. I do know he is sort of a friend to my father."
For the first time Kay began to understand. She asked a little incredulously, "You're not hinting that a man like that works for your father?"
The hell with it, he thought. He said, straight out, "Nearly fifteen years ago some people wanted to take over my father's oil importing business. They tried to kill him and nearly did. Luca Brasi went after them. The story is that he killed six men in two weeks and that ended the famous olive oil war." He smiled as if it were a joke.
Kay shuddered. "You mean your father was shot by gangsters?"
"Fifteen years ago," Michael said. "Everything's been peaceful since then." He was afraid he had gone too far.
"You're trying to scare me," Kay said. "You just don't want me to marry you." She smiled at him and poked his ribs with her elbow. "Very clever."
Michael smiled back at her. "I want you to think about it," he said.
"Did he really kill six men?" Kay asked.
"That's what the newspapers claimed," Mike said. "Nobody ever proved it. But there's another story about him that nobody ever tells. It's supposed to be so terrible that even my father won't talk about it. Tom Hagen knows the story and he won't tell me. Once I kidded him, I said, 'When will I be old enough to hear that story about Luca?' and Tom said, 'When you're a hundred.’ Michael sipped his glass of wine. "That must be some story. That must be some Luca."
Luca Brasi was indeed a man to frighten the devil in hell himself (способный испугать самого дьявола в аду [devl]). Short, squat (коренастый: «короткий и толстый»; to squat – сидеть на корточках), massive-skulled (с массивным черепом: skull), his presence sent out alarm bells of danger (его присутстствие сигнализировало = распространяло ощущение опасности: alarm [∂’lα:m] – сигнал тревоги; alarm bell – набат, сигнальный звонок). His face was stamped into a mask of fury (на его лицо «была нанесена /вечная/ печать» гнева, ярости, на его лице была застывшая маска гнева). The eyes were brown but with none of the warmth of that color (но безо всякого тепла, свойственного этому цвету), more a deadly tan (скорее мертвенный желто-коричневый цвет). The mouth was not so much cruel as lifeless (не столько жестоким, сколько безжизненным); thin, rubbery (резиновым = словно резиновым) and the color of veal (телятины).
Brasi's reputation for violence (жестокости, насилия, применения силы) was awesome (устрашающей, необычайной: «вызывающей благоговение, почтительный страх»; awe [o:] – благоговейный страх, трепет) and his devotion (преданность) to Don Corleone legendary. He was, in himself, one of the great blocks that supported (поддерживали) the Don's power structure. His kind was a rarity (такие как он были большой редкостью: «его вид был редкостью»).
Luca Brasi did not fear the police, he did not fear society (общество [s∂’saı∂tı]), he did not fear God, he did not fear hell, he did not fear or love his fellow man. But he had elected (избрал), he had chosen, to fear and love Don Corleone. Ushered into the presence of the Don (приведенный к Дону; to usher – провожать, сопровождать; вводить; показывать места; usher – швейцар; капельдинер; билетер), the terrible Brasi held himself stiff (неподвижно, застывший) with respect. He stuttered over (пробормотал; to stutter – заикаться, запинаться) the flowery congratulations he offered (цветистые поздравления; to offer – предлагать; выдвигать; приносить /жертву/, возносить /молитвы/) and his formal hope that the first grandchild would be masculine (мужского пола ['ma:skjulın]). He then handed the Don an envelope stuffed with cash as a gift for the bridal couple.
So that was what he wanted to do. Hagen noticed the change in Don Corleone. The Don received Brasi as a king greets a subject (подобно тому, как король привествует подданного) who has done him an enormous service (огромную услугу [ı'no:m∂s]), never familiar but with regal respect (вовсе не фамильярно, но с королевским уважением, почетом ['ri:g∂l]). With every gesture, with every word, Don Corleone made it clear to Luca Brasi that he was valued (ценим). Not for one moment did he show surprise at the wedding gift being presented to him personally. He understood.
The money in the envelope was sure to be more than anyone else had given. Brasi had spent many hours deciding on the sum, comparing it to what the other guests might offer (сравнивая с тем, что могли бы предложить, преподнести другие гости). He wanted to be the most generous to show that he had the most respect, and that was why he had given his envelope to the Don personally, a gaucherie (неловкость, нарушение этикета [g∂u∫∂’ri:]; gauche [g∂u∫] – неловкий, неуклюжий, нескладный: «левый» /франц./) the Don overlooked (не стал обращать внимания, игнорировал) in his own flowery sentence of thanks. Hagen saw Luca Brasi's face lose its mask of fury (как утратило), swell with pride and pleasure (стало набухать от гордости и удовольствия). Brasi kissed the Don's hand before he went out the door that Hagen held open. Hagen prudently (предусмотрительно, благоразумно = на всякий случай) gave Brasi a friendly smile which the squat man acknowledged (признал = на которую ответил [∂k'nolıdG]) with a polite stretching (вежливым растягиванием) of rubbery, veal-colored lips.
Luca Brasi was indeed a man to frighten the devil in hell himself. Short, squat, massive-skulled, his presence sent out alarm bells of danger. His face was stamped into a mask of fury. The eyes were brown but with none of the warmth of that color, more a deadly tan. The mouth was not so much cruel as lifeless; thin, rubbery and the color of veal.
Brasi's reputation for violence was awesome and his devotion to Don Corleone legendary. He was, in himself, one of the great blocks that supported the Don's power structure. His kind was a rarity.
Luca Brasi did not fear the police, he did not fear society, he did not fear God, he did not fear hell, he did not fear or love his fellow man. But he had elected, he had chosen, to fear and love Don Corleone. Ushered into the presence of the Don, the terrible Brasi held himself stiff with respect. He stuttered over the flowery congratulations he offered and his formal hope that the first grandchild would be masculine. He then handed the Don an envelope stuffed with cash as a gift for the bridal couple.
So that was what he wanted to do. Hagen noticed the change in Don Corleone. The Don received Brasi as a king greets a subject who has done him an enormous service, never familiar but with regal respect. With every gesture, with every word, Don Corleone made it clear to Luca Brasi that he was valued. Not for one moment did he show surprise at the wedding gift being presented to him personally. He understood.
The money in the envelope was sure to be more than anyone else had given. Brasi had spent many hours deciding on the sum, comparing it to what the other guests might offer. He wanted to be the most generous to show that he had the most respect, and that was why he had given his envelope to the Don personally, a gaucherie the Don overlooked in his own flowery sentence of thanks. Hagen saw Luca Brasi's face lose its mask of fury, swell with pride and pleasure. Brasi kissed the Don's hand before he went out the door that Hagen held open. Hagen prudently gave Brasi a friendly smile which the squat man acknowledged with a polite stretching of rubbery, veal-colored lips.
When the door closed Don Corleone gave a small sigh of relief (вздох облегчения). Brasi was the only man in the world who could make him nervous. The man was like a natural force (словно некая природная = неконтролируемая человеком сила), not truly subject to control (в общем-то неподчиненная, неподлежащая контролю). He had to be handled as gingerly as dynamite (с ним следовало обращаться так же осторожно, предусмотрительно, как с динамитом [‘dGındG∂lı] [‘daın∂maıt]). The Don shrugged. Even dynamite could be exploded harmlessly (может быть взорван безопасно) if the need arose (если бы возникла необходимость). He looked questioningly at Hagen. "Is Bonasera the only one left?"
Hagen nodded. Don Corleone frowned in thought, then said, "Before you bring him in, tell Santino to come here. He should learn some things."
Out in the garden, Hagen searched anxiously (с беспокойством, озабоченно; anxious [‘æŋk∫∂s]) for Sonny Corleone. He told the waiting Bonasera to be patient (потерпеть; patient [‘peı∫∂nt] – терпеливый) and went over (подошел) to Michael Corleone and his girl friend. "Did you see Sonny around (здесь где-нибудь)?" he asked. Michael shook his head. Damn (проклятье; to damn – проклинать), Hagen thought, if Sonny was screwing the maid of honor all this time (трахал; to screw [skru:] – завинчивать) there was going to be a mess of trouble (будут большие неприятности; mess – беспорядок, путаница; неприятность). His wife, the young girl's family; it could be a disaster (бедствие, катастрофа [dı'zα:st∂]). Anxiously he hurried to the entrance (поспешил к входу) through which (через который) he had seen Sonny disappear almost a half hour ago.
Seeing Hagen go into the house, Kay Adams asked Michael Corleone, "Who is he? You introduced him as your brother but his name is different (отличающаяся, иная) and he certainly doesn't look Italian."
"Tom lived with us since he was twelve years old," Michael said. "His parents died and he was roaming around the streets (бродил, скитался) with this bad eye infection (с заражением глаза, с сильно зараженным глазом). Sonny brought him home one night and he just stayed (просто остался /жить с нами/). He didn't have any place to go. He lived with us until he got married."
Kay Adams was thrilled (взволнована, заинтригована; to thrill – вызывать трепет, сильно волновать). "That's really romantic," she said. "Your father must be a warmhearted person. To adopt (усыновить) somebody just like that when he had so many children of his own."
Michael didn't bother to point out (не стал указывать на то, не стал тратить силы на разъяснение того; to bother [‘boð∂] – беспокоиться, волноваться) that immigrant Italians considered (считали, рассматривали) four children a small family. He merely said (только лишь сказал), "Tom wasn't adopted. He just lived with us."
"Oh," Kay said, then asked curiously, "why didn't you adopt him?"
Michael laughed. "Because my father said it would be disrespectful (непочтительно) for Tom to change his name. Disrespectful to his own parents."
They saw Hagen shoo Sonny through the French door into the Don's office (to shoo – выгонять, выпроваживать; shoo – кыш; to shoo – вспугивать, прогонять /птиц/) and then crook a finger (скрючил, согнул палец = поманил пальцем; crook – крюк) at Amerigo Bonasera. "Why do they bother your father (беспокоят) with business on a day like this?" Kay asked.
Michael laughed again. "Because they know that by tradition (по традиции) no Sicilian can refuse a request (не может отказать просьбе) on his daughter's wedding day. And no Sicilian ever lets a chance like that go by (не упускает случая, возможности: «не дает шансу пройти мимо»)."
When the door closed Don Corleone gave a small sigh of relief. Brasi was the only man in the world who could make him nervous. The man was like a natural force, not truly subject to control. He had to be handled as gingerly as dynamite. The Don shrugged. Even dynamite could be exploded harmlessly if the need arose. He looked questioningly at Hagen. "Is Bonasera the only one left?"
Hagen nodded. Don Corleone frowned in thought, then said, "Before you bring him in, tell Santino to come here. He should learn some things."
Out in the garden, Hagen searched anxiously for Sonny Corleone. He told the waiting Bonasera to be patient and went over to Michael Corleone and his girl friend. "Did you see Sonny around?" he asked. Michael shook his head. Damn, Hagen thought, if Sonny was screwing the maid of honor all this time there was going to be a mess of trouble. His wife, the young girl's family; it could be a disaster. Anxiously he hurried to the entrance through which he had seen Sonny disappear almost a half hour ago.
Seeing Hagen go into the house, Kay Adams asked Michael Corleone, "Who is he? You introduced him as your brother but his name is different and he certainly doesn't look Italian."
"Tom lived with us since he was twelve years old," Michael said. "His parents died and he was roaming around the streets with this bad eye infection. Sonny brought him home one night and he just stayed. He didn't have any place to go. He lived with us until he got married."
