The Count of Monte Cristo (1 of 2)

    "What are you doing?"

    "You have wounded me to the heart."

    "Never mind it, for I see you once more," said the old man; "and now it's all over — everything is all right again."

    "Yes, here I am," said the young man, "with a promising future and a little money. Here, father, here!" he said, "take this — take it, and send for something immediately." And he emptied his pockets on the table, the contents consisting of a dozen gold pieces, five or six five-franc pieces, and some smaller coin. The countenance of old Dantes brightened.

    "Whom does this belong to?" he inquired.

    "To me, to you, to us! Take it; buy some provisions; be happy, and to-morrow we shall have more."

    "Gently, gently," said the old man, with a smile; "and by your leave I will use your purse moderately, for they would say, if they saw me buy too many things at a time, that I had been obliged to await your return, in order to be able to purchase them."

    "Do as you please; but, first of all, pray have a servant, father. I will not have you left alone so long. I have some smuggled coffee and most capital tobacco, in a small chest in the hold, which you shall have to-morrow. But, hush, here comes somebody."

    "'Tis Caderousse, who has heard of your arrival, and no doubt comes to congratulate you on your fortunate return."

    "Ah, lips that say one thing, while the heart thinks another," murmured Edmond. "But, never mind, he is a neighbor who has done us a service on a time, so he's welcome."

    As Edmond paused, the black and bearded head of Caderousse appeared at the door. He was a man of twenty-five or six, and held a piece of cloth, which, being a tailor, he was about to make into a coat-lining.

    "What, is it you, Edmond, back again?" said he, with a broad Marseillaise accent, and a grin that displayed his ivory-white teeth.

    "Yes, as you see, neighbor Caderousse; and ready to be agreeable to you in any and every way," replied Dantes, but ill-concealing his coldness under this cloak of civility.

    "Thanks — thanks; but, fortunately, I do not want for anything; and it chances that at times there are others who have need of me." Dantes made a gesture. "I do not allude to you, my boy. No! — no! I lent you money, and you returned it; that's like good neighbors, and we are quits."

    "We are never quits with those who oblige us," was Dantes' reply; "for when we do not owe them money, we owe them gratitude."

    "What's the use of mentioning that? What is done is done.

Источник: The Gutenberg Project

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Так и мы! Вросли ногами крови в избы,
Что нам первый ряд подкошенной травы?
Только лишь до нас не добрались бы,
Только нам бы,
Только б нашей
Не скосили, как ромашке, головы.
Но теперь как будто пробудились,
И березами заплаканный наш тракт
Окружает, как туман от сырости,
Имя мертвого Петра.

П у г а ч е в

Как Петра? Что ты сказал, старик?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Иль это взвыли в небе облака?

С т о р о ж

Я говорю, что скоро грозный крик,
Который избы словно жаб влакал,
Сильней громов раскатится над нами.
Уже мятеж вздымает паруса.
Нам нужен тот, кто б первый бросил камень.

П у г а ч е в

Какая мысль!

С т о р о ж

О чем вздыхаешь ты?

П у г а ч е в

Я положил себе зарок молчать до срока.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Клещи рассвета в небесах
Из пасти темноты
Выдергивают звезды, словно зубы,
А мне еще нигде вздремнуть не удалось.

С т о р о ж

Я мог бы предложить тебе
Тюфяк свой грубый,
Но у меня в дому всего одна кровать,
И четверо на ней спит ребятишек.

П у г а ч е в

Благодарю! Я в этом граде гость.
Дадут приют мне под любою крышей.
Прощай, старик!

С т о р о ж

Храни тебя господь!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ...

Есенин Сергей Александрович
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