The Don clapped his hands together with decisive approval (хлопнул в ладони с решительным, уверенным одобрением; decisive [dı'saısıv] – решающий, решенный, окончательный; approval [∂p'ru:v∂l]; to decide – решать, принимать решение; to approve – одобрять). "Well spoken (хорошо сказано). Very fine. Then you have nothing to complain about (тогда вам не на что жаловаться). The judge has ruled (вынес решение; to rule – управлять; устанавливать порядок). America has ruled. Bring your daughter flowers and a box of candy (коробку леденцов) when you go visit her in the hospital. That will comfort her (утешит, успокоит ['kLmf∂t]). Be content. After all, this is not a serious affair, the boys were young, high-spirited (горячие, пылкие, резвые), and one of them is the son of a powerful politician. No, my dear Amerigo, you have always been honest. I must admit, though you spurned my friendship, that I would trust the given word of Amerigo Bonasera more than I would any other man's. So give me your word that you will put aside this madness (что вы оставите: «отложите в сторону» это безумие = эту безумную затею). It is not American. Forgive (простите). Forget (забудьте). Life is full of misfortunes (жизнь полна бед, неприятностей)."
The cruel and contemptuous irony (жестокая и презрительная ирония [k∂n’temptju∂s] [‘a∂r∂nı]) with which all this was said, the controlled anger of the Don, reduced the poor undertaker to a quivering jelly (превратили в: «сократили» до дрожащего желе) but he spoke up bravely again. "I ask you for justice."
Don Corleone said curtly, "The court gave you justice."
Bonasera shook his head stubbornly. "No. They gave the youths justice. They did not give me justice."
The Don acknowledged this fine distinction (признал это тонкое разграничение) with an approving nod (одобрительным кивком), then asked, "What is your justice?"
"An eye for an eye," Bonasera said.
"You asked for more," the Don said. "Your daughter is alive."
Bonasera said reluctantly (неохотно, с неохотой), "Let them suffer (пусть они будут страдать, пострадают) as she suffers." The Don waited for him to speak further. Bonasera screwed up the last of his courage (собрал: «подвинтил» всю свою оставшуюся смелость) and said, "How much shall I pay you?" It was a despairing wail (отчаянный вопль; wail – продолжительный скорбный крик, плач; to dispair [dıs’pe∂r] – отчаиваться).
Don Corleone turned his back. It was a dismissal (это был отказ: «знак, что аудиенция окончена»; to dismiss – отпускать, позволять уйти; увольнять). Bonasera did not budge (не шевельнулся, не двинулся /с места/). Finally, sighing, a good-hearted man who cannot remain angry with an erring friend (не может долго сердиться на заблуждающегося друга; to err – заблуждаться, ошибаться), Don Corleone turned back to the undertaker, who was now as pale as one of his corpses (такой же бледный, как любой из его трупов [ko:ps]). Don Corleone was gentle (мягкий, добрый: «благородный, ведущий себя, как подобает джентельмену»), patient (терпеливый ['peı∫∂nt]). "Why do you fear to give your first allegiance to me (лояльность, преданность; вассальная зависимость [∂'li:dG∂ns])?" he said. "You go to the law courts and wait for months. You spend money on lawyers who know full well (прекрасно понимают) you are to be made a fool of (что вас можно дурачить). You accept judgment from a judge who sells himself like the worst whore in the streets (как худшая шлюха). Years gone by (в минувшие годы), when you needed money, you went to the banks and paid ruinous interest (разорительные проценты), waited hat in hand like a beggar (как нищий) while they sniffed around (разнюхивали; to sniff – вдыхать через нос; обнюхивать), poked their noses up your very asshole (в самую задницу) to make sure (чтобы убедиться) you could pay them back." The Don paused, his voice became sterner (строже, суровее).
"But if you had come to me, my purse would have been yours. If you had come to me for justice those scum (подонки: «пена, накипь; отбросы») who ruined your daughter would be weeping bitter tears this day. If by some misfortune an honest man like yourself made enemies they would become my enemies" – the Don raised his arm, finger pointing at Bonasera – "and then, believe me, they would fear you."
Bonasera bowed his head and murmured in a strangled voice (сдавленным голосом; to strangle – задушить, удавить), "Be my friend. I accept (cогласен: «принимаю» [∂k’sept])."
Don Corleone put his hand on the man's shoulder. "Good," he said, "you shall have your justice. Some day, and that day may never come, I will call upon you to do me a service in return. Until that day, consider this justice a gift from my wife (рассматривайте как подарок), your daughter's godmother."
When the door closed behind the grateful undertaker, Don Corleone turned to Hagen and said, "Give this affair to Clemenza and tell him to be sure to use reliable people (надежных; to rely [rı’laı] – полагаться, быть уверенным /в ком-либо/), people who will not be carried away by the smell of blood (которых не увлечет, не заставит преступить границы запах крови). After all, we're not murderers, no matter what that corpse valet dreams up in his foolish head (неважно, что там грезится = что бы там ни грезилось этому служителю трупов в его дурной голове; valet ['vælıt] – камердинер, лакей, слуга)." He noted that his first-born, masculine son was gazing through the window at the garden party. It was hopeless, Don Corleone thought. If he refused to be instructed, Santino could never run the family business, could never become a Don. He would have to find somebody else. And soon. After all, he was not immortal (не бессмертен).
From the garden, startling all three men (заставив вздрогнуть /от неожиданности/; to startle – испугать, поразить; вздрагивать, бросаться в сторону /о лошади/), there came a happy roaring shout (радостные крики: «радостно ревущий крик»; to roar [ro:] – реветь, орать, рычать). Sonny Corleone pressed close to the window. What he saw made him move quickly toward the door, a delighted smile on his face (довольная улыбка; delight [dı’laıt] – удовольствие). "It's Johnny, he came to the wedding, what did I tell you?" Hagen moved to the window. "It's really your godson (крестник)," he said to Don Corleone. "Shall I bring him here?"
"No," the Don said. "Let the people enjoy him (пускай люди ему порадуются, получат удовольствие от общения с ним). Let him come to me when he is ready." He smiled at Hagen. "You see? He is a good godson."
Hagen felt a twinge of jealousy (укол ревности; twinge – приступ боли; jealousy [‘dGel∂sı]). He said dryly (сухо), "It's been two years. He's probably in trouble again and wants you to help."
"And who should he come to if not his godfather?" asked Don Corleone.
Don Corleone rose from behind the desk. His face was still impassive but his voice rang like cold death. "We have known each other many years, you and I," he said to the undertaker, "but until this day you never came to me for counsel or help. I can't remember the last time you invited me to your house for coffee though my wife is godmother to your only child. Let us be frank. You spurned my friendship. You feared to be in my debt."
Bonasera murmured, "I didn't want to get into trouble."
The Don held up his hand. "No. Don't speak. You found America a paradise. You had a good trade, you made a good living, you thought the world a harmless place where you could take your pleasure as you willed. You never armed yourself with true friends. After all, the police guarded you, there were courts of law, you and yours could come to no harm. You did not need Don Corleone. Very well. My feelings were wounded but I am not that sort of person who thrusts his friendship on those who do not value it – on those who think me of little account." The Don paused and gave the undertaker a polite, ironic smile. "Now you come to me and say, 'Don Corleone give me justice.' And you do not ask with respect. You do not offer me your friendship. You come into my home on the bridal day of my daughter and you ask me to do murder and you say" – here the Don's voice became a scornful mimicry – " 'I will pay you anything'. No, no, I am not offended, but what have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully?"
Bonasera cried out in his anguish and his fear, "America has been good to me. I wanted to be a good citizen. I wanted my child to be American."
The Don clapped his hands together with decisive approval. "Well spoken. Very fine. Then you have nothing to complain about. The judge has ruled. America has ruled. Bring your daughter flowers and a box of candy when you go visit her in the hospital. That will comfort her. Be content. After all, this is not a serious affair, the boys were young, high-spirited, and one of them is the son of a powerful politician. No, my dear Amerigo, you have always been honest. I must admit, though you spurned my friendship, that I would trust the given word of Amerigo Bonasera more than I would any other man's. So give me your word that you will put aside this madness. It is not American. Forgive. Forget. Life is full of misfortunes."
The cruel and contemptuous irony with which all this was said, the controlled anger of the Don, reduced the poor undertaker to a quivering jelly but he spoke up bravely again. "I ask you for justice."
Don Corleone said curtly, "The court gave you justice."
Bonasera shook his head stubbornly. "No. They gave the youths justice. They did not give me justice."
The Don acknowledged this fine distinction with an approving nod, then asked, "What is your justice?"
"An eye for an eye," Bonasera said.
"You asked for more," the Don said. "Your daughter is alive."
Bonasera said reluctantly, "Let them suffer as she suffers." The Don waited for him to speak further. Bonasera screwed up the last of his courage and said, "How much shall I pay you?" It was a despairing wail.
Don Corleone turned his back. It was a dismissal. Bonasera did not budge. Finally, sighing, a good-hearted man who cannot remain angry with an erring friend, Don Corleone turned back to the undertaker, who was now as pale as one of his corpses. Don Corleone was gentle, patient. "Why do you fear to give your first allegiance to me?" he said. "You go to the law courts and wait for months. You spend money on lawyers who know full well you are to be made a fool of. You accept judgment from a judge who sells himself like the worst whore in the streets. Years gone by, when you needed money, you went to the banks and paid ruinous interest, waited hat in hand like a beggar while they sniffed around, poked their noses up your very asshole to make sure you could pay them back." The Don paused, his voice became sterner.
"But if you had come to me, my purse would have been yours. If you had come to me for justice those scum who ruined your daughter would be weeping bitter tears this day. If by some misfortune an honest man like yourself made enemies they would become my enemies" – the Don raised his arm, finger pointing at Bonasera – "and then, believe me, they would fear you."
Bonasera bowed his head and murmured in a strangled voice, "Be my friend. I accept."
Don Corleone put his hand on the man's shoulder. "Good," he said, "you shall have your justice. Some day, and that day may never come, I will call upon you to do me a service in return. Until that day, consider this justice a gift from my wife, your daughter's godmother."
When the door closed behind the grateful undertaker, Don Corleone turned to Hagen and said, "Give this affair to Clemenza and tell him to be sure to use reliable people, people who will not be carried away by the smell of blood. After all, we're not murderers, no matter what that corpse valet dreams up in his foolish head." He noted that his first-born, masculine son was gazing through the window at the garden party. It was hopeless, Don Corleone thought. If he refused to be instructed, Santino could never run the family business, could never become a Don. He would have to find somebody else. And soon. After all, he was not immortal.
From the garden, startling all three men, there came a happy roaring shout. Sonny Corleone pressed close to the window. What he saw made him move quickly toward the door, a delighted smile on his face. "It's Johnny, he came to the wedding, what did I tell you?" Hagen moved to the window. "It's really your godson," he said to Don Corleone. "Shall I bring him here?"
"No," the Don said. "Let the people enjoy him. Let him come to me when he is ready." He smiled at Hagen. "You see? He is a good godson."
Hagen felt a twinge of jealousy. He said dryly, "It's been two years. He's probably in trouble again and wants you to help."
"And who should he come to if not his godfather?" asked Don Corleone.
The first one to see Johnny Fontane enter the garden was Connie Corleone. She forgot her bridal dignity (достоинство, важность) and screamed, "Johneee." Then she ran into his arms. He hugged her tight (крепко обнял ее; to hug – крепко обнимать, сжимать в объятиях) and kissed her on the mouth, kept his arm around her as others came up to greet him. They were all his old friends, people he had grown up with on the West Side. Then Connie was dragging him (тащила = тянула) to her new husband. Johnny saw with amusement that the blond young man looked a little sour (выглядел кислым = мрачным, угрюмым [sau∂]) at no longer being the star of the day (из-за того, что он больше не центр внимания, что перестал быть центром внимания, гвоздем программы). He turned on all his charm («включил» весь свой шарм), shaking the groom's hand, toasting him with a glass of wine.
A familiar voice called from the bandstand, "How about giving us a song, Johnny?" He looked up and saw Nino Valenti smiling down at him. Johnny Fontane jumped up on the bandstand (запрыгнул на сцену) and threw his arms around Nino. They had been inseparable (неразлучны: «неразлучимы» [ın'sep∂r∂bl]), singing together, going out with girls together, until Johnny had started to become famous and sing on the radio. When he had gone to Hollywood to make movies Johnny had phoned Nino a couple of times just to talk and had promised to get him a club singing date (прослушивание). But he had never done so. Seeing Nino now, his cheerful (радостную, веселую, неунывающую [t∫ı∂ful]; to cheer – cоздавать хорошее настроение, подбадривать; приветствовать громкими возгласами), mocking (насмешливую), drunken grin (пьяную улыбку, усмешку), all the affection returned (вся привязанность, все теплые чувства вернулись).
A familiar voice called from the bandstand, "How about giving us a song, Johnny?" He looked up and saw Nino Valenti smiling down at him. Johnny Fontane jumped up on the bandstand (запрыгнул на сцену) and threw his arms around Nino. They had been inseparable (неразлучны: «неразлучимы» [ın'sep∂r∂bl]), singing together, going out with girls together, until Johnny had started to become famous and sing on the radio. When he had gone to Hollywood to make movies Johnny had phoned Nino a couple of times just to talk and had promised to get him a club singing date (прослушивание). But he had never done so. Seeing Nino now, his cheerful (радостную, веселую, неунывающую [t∫ı∂ful]; to cheer – cоздавать хорошее настроение, подбадривать; приветствовать громкими возгласами), mocking (насмешливую), drunken grin (пьяную улыбку, усмешку), all the affection returned (вся привязанность, все теплые чувства вернулись).
Nino began strumming on the mandolin (бренчать, тренькать). Johnny Fontane put his hand on Nino's shoulder. "This is for the bride," he said, and stamping his foot (топая, притаптывая), chanted the words (пропел слова) to an obscene Sicilian love song. As he sang, Nino made suggestive motions with his body (непристойные движения; suggestive [s∂’dGestıv] – внушающий какие-либо мысли; намекающий на что-либо непристойное; to suggest – предлагать, советовать; вызывать, намекать). The bride blushed proudly (покраснела гордо), the throng of guests (толпа) roared its approval. Before the song ended they were all stamping with their feet and roaring out the sly, double-meaning tag line (выкрикивая лукавую заключительную реплику с двойственным смыслом) that finished each stanza (куплет, строфу). At the end they would not stop applauding until Johnny cleared his throat (прочистил горло) to sing another song.
They were all proud of him. He was of them and he had become a famous singer, a movie star who slept with the most desired women in the world. And yet he had shown proper respect for his Godfather by traveling three thousand miles to attend this wedding. He still loved old friends like Nino Valenti. Many of the people there had seen Johnny and Nino singing together when they were just boys, when no one dreamed that Johnny Fontane would grow up to hold the hearts of fifty million women in his hands.
Johnny Fontane reached down and lifted the bride up on to the bandstand so that Connie stood between him and Nino. Both men crouched down (согнулись, пригнулись), facing each other, Nino plucking the mandolin for a few harsh chords (с силой перебирая струны, взяв несколько мощных аккордов; to pluck – срывать /цветок/; пощипывать, перебирать /струны/; chord [ko:d] – струна; harsh – жесткий, твердый; резкий). It was an old routine of theirs, a mock battle and wooing (шутливое = в шутку сражение и ухажерство; to woo – ухаживать, добиваться), using their voices like swords, each shouting a chorus in turn (выкрикивая припев по очереди [‘ko:r∂s]). With the most delicate courtesy (вежливостью, учтивостью ['k∂tısı]), Johnny let Nino's voice overwhelm his own (позволил, дал одолеть, подавить свой собственный голос), let Nino take the bride from his arm, let Nino swing into the last victorious stanza while his own voice died away (замер, стих). The whole wedding party broke into shouts of applause, the three of them embraced each other at the end. The guests begged for another song.
Only Don Corleone, standing in the comer entrance of the house, sensed something amiss (почувствовал, что что-то не так). Cheerily, with bluff good humor (с наигранным /ср. «блеф»/ хорошим настроением), careful not to give offense to his guests (стараясь не обидеть, боясь обидеть), he called out, "My godson has come three thousand miles to do us honor and no one thinks to wet his throat?" At once a dozen full wine glasses were thrust at Johnny Fontane. He took a sip from all and rushed to embrace his Godfather (бросился обнять). As he did so he whispered something into the older man's ear. Don Corleone led him into the house.
The first one to see Johnny Fontane enter the garden was Connie Corleone. She forgot her bridal dignity and screamed, "Johneee." Then she ran into his arms. He hugged her tight and kissed her on the mouth, kept his arm around her as others came up to greet him. They were all his old friends, people he had grown up with on the West Side. Then Connie was dragging him to her new husband. Johnny saw with amusement that the blond young man looked a little sour at no longer being the star of the day. He turned on all his charm, shaking the groom's hand, toasting him with a glass of wine.
A familiar voice called from the bandstand, "How about giving us a song, Johnny?" He looked up and saw Nino Valenti smiling down at him. Johnny Fontane jumped up on the bandstand and threw his arms around Nino. They had been inseparable, singing together, going out with girls together, until Johnny had started to become famous and sing on the radio. When he had gone to Hollywood to make movies Johnny had phoned Nino a couple of times just to talk and had promised to get him a club singing date. But he had never done so. Seeing Nino now, his cheerful, mocking, drunken grin, all the affection returned.
Nino began strumming on the mandolin. Johnny Fontane put his hand on Nino's shoulder. "This is for the bride," he said, and stamping his foot, chanted the words to an obscene Sicilian love song. As he sang, Nino made suggestive motions with his body. The bride blushed proudly, the throng of guests roared its approval. Before the song ended they were all stamping with their feet and roaring out the sly, double-meaning tag line that finished each stanza. At the end they would not stop applauding until Johnny cleared his throat to sing another song.
They were all proud of him. He was of them and he had become a famous singer, a movie star who slept with the most desired women in the world. And yet he had shown proper respect for his Godfather by traveling three thousand miles to attend this wedding. He still loved old friends like Nino Valenti. Many of the people there had seen Johnny and Nino singing together when they were just boys, when no one dreamed that Johnny Fontane would grow up to hold the hearts of fifty million women in his hands.
Johnny Fontane reached down and lifted the bride up on to the bandstand so that Connie stood between him and Nino. Both men crouched down, facing each other, Nino plucking the mandolin for a few harsh chords. It was an old routine of theirs, a mock battle and wooing, using their voices like swords, each shouting a chorus in turn. With the most delicate courtesy, Johnny let Nino's voice overwhelm his own, let Nino take the bride from his arm, let Nino swing into the last victorious stanza while his own voice died away. The whole wedding party broke into shouts of applause, the three of them embraced each other at the end. The guests begged for another song.
Only Don Corleone, standing in the comer entrance of the house, sensed something amiss. Cheerily, with bluff good humor, careful not to give offense to his guests, he called out, "My godson has come three thousand miles to do us honor and no one thinks to wet his throat?" At once a dozen full wine glasses were thrust at Johnny Fontane. He took a sip from all and rushed to embrace his Godfather. As he did so he whispered something into the older man's ear. Don Corleone led him into the house.
Tom Hagen held out his hand when Johnny came into the room. Johnny shook it (пожал ее; to shake – трясти, встряхивать) and said, "How are you, Tom?" But without his usual charm (без своего обычного шарма) that consisted of a genuine warmth for people (который состоял из искренней теплоты, заключался в истинной теплоте по отношению к людям; genuine [‘dGenjuın] – истинный, неподдельный; искренний: «от рода, генов, от рождения»). Hagen was a little hurt by this coolness but shrugged it off (пожал плечами /и отмахнулся от этой мысли/). It was one of the penalties for being the Don's hatchet man (это было одним из наказаний за то, что он был исполнителем /грязной работы/; penalty ['penltı] – наказание, штраф; hatchet – топорик; hatchet man – человек, выполняющий грязную работу /по поручению какой-либо организации/; наемный убийца).
Johnny Fontane said to the Don, "When I got the wedding invitation I said to myself, 'My Godfather isn't mad at me anymore (больше не сердится на меня).' I called you five times after my divorce (после моего развода) and Tom always told me you were out or busy (что вас нет или вы заняты) so I knew you were sore (поэтому я знал, что вы обижены, сердитесь; sore – больной, болезненный, чувствительный; страдающий, испытывающий душевную боль)."
Don Corleone was filling glasses from the yellow bottle of Strega. "That's all forgotten (это все забыто). Now. Can I do something for you still? You're not too famous, too rich, that I can't help you?"
Johnny gulped down the yellow fiery liquid (проглотил желтую огненную жидкость [‘faı∂rı]) and held out his glass to be refilled (чтобы его снова наполнили). He tried to sound jaunty (старался, чтобы голос звучал весело, бодро [‘dGo:ntı]). "I'm not rich, Godfather. I'm going down (дела мои идут все хуже: «иду вниз»). You were right. I should never have left my wife and kids (я не должен был оставлять мою жену и детишек) for that tramp I married. I don't blame you for getting sore at me (я не виню вас, что вы сердитесь, сердились на меня)."
The Don shrugged. "I worried about you (беспокоился о тебе), you're my godson, that's all (вот и все)."
Johnny paced up and down the room (прошелся взад и вперед, измерил шагами комнату). "I was crazy about that bitch (эта сука меня с ума свела). The biggest star in Hollywood. She looks like an angel. And you know what she does after a picture? If the makeup man (гример; to make up – подкраситься, подмазаться; гримировать/ся/) does a good job on her face, she lets him bang her (она дает ему себя трахать; to bang – стукать, ударять). If the cameraman (оператор) made her look extra good, she brings him into her dressing room (в раздевалку, комнату для переодевания) and gives him a screw. Anybody. She uses her body like I use the loose change in my pocket for a tip (как я использую мелочь в моем кармане на чаевые; loose [lu:s] – свободный, неопределенный). A whore made for the devil (шлюха, созданная для дьявола [ho:])."
Don Corleone curtly broke in (резко перебил). "How is your family?"
Johnny sighed. "I took care of them (позаботился о них). After the divorce I gave Ginny and the kids more than the courts said I should. I go see them once a week. I miss them (скучаю по ним). Sometimes I think I'm going crazy." He took another drink. "Now my second wife laughs at me. She can't understand my being jealous (мою ревность, почему я ревную). She calls me an old-fashioned guinea, she makes fun of my singing (насмехается над моим пением). Before I left I gave her a nice beating but not in the face because she was making a picture. I gave her cramps, I punched her on the arms and legs like a kid and she kept laughing at me." He lit a cigarette. "So, Godfather, right now (вот сейчас, прямо сейчас), life doesn't seem worth living (жизнь не кажется стоящей того, чтобы ее жить, проживать)."
Don Corleone said simply, "These are troubles I can't help you with." He paused, then asked, "What's the matter with your voice (что случилось с твоим голосом)?"
All the assured charm (/само/уверенный [∂'∫u∂d]), the self-mockery (самоирония; to mock – насмехаться, высмеивать), disappeared from Johnny Fontane's face. He said almost brokenly (судорожно, толчками, рывками), "Godfather, I can't sing anymore, something happened to my throat (что-то случилось с моим горлом), the doctors don't know what." Hagen and the Don looked at him with surprise, Johnny had always been so tough (жесткий, плотный; крепкий; упрямый [tLf]). Fontane went on. "My two pictures made a lot of money. I was a big star. Now they throw me out (выбрасывают). The head of the studio always hated my guts (ненавидел меня: «мои кишки, внутренности») and now he's paying me off (увольняет; to pay off – расплачиваться сполна; увольнять)."
Don Corleone stood before his godson and asked grimly (сурово), "Why doesn't this man like you?"
"I used to sing those songs for the liberal organizations, you know, all that stuff you never liked me to do (все эти вещи, которые вы не хотели, чтобы я делал, вам никогда не нравилось, что я их делаю). Well, Jack Woltz didn't like it either (тоже). He called me a Communist, but he couldn't make it stick (чтобы прилипло). Then I snatched a girl he had saved for himself (увел девушку, которую он приберег для себя; to snatch – хватать; похищать; to save – спасать; беречь, экономить). It was strictly a one-night stand (это было всего лишь приключение на одну ночь; strictly – точно, без отклонений; one-night stand – одно представление /в один вечер/, которое дают где-либо странствующие актеры; случайное любовное приключение) and she came after me (сама навязалась; to come after – искать, домогаться; преследовать). What the hell could I do (что, черт возьми, я мог сделать; hell – ад)? Then my whore second wife throws me out. And Ginny and the kids won't take me back unless I come crawling on my hands and knees (если, пока я не приползу на карачках), and I can't sing anymore. Godfather, what the hell can I do?"