Английский язык с Крестным Отцом

Now the Don was mocking. "Because you acted like a finocchio. You gave her more than the court said. You didn't hit the other in the face because she was making a picture. You let women dictate your actions and they are not competent in this world, though certainly they will be saints in heaven (конечно, будут святыми в раю) while we men burn in hell (в то время как мы, мужчины, будем гореть в аду). And then I've watched you all these years." The Don's voice became earnest (сделался серьезным ['∂:nıst]). "You've been a fine godson, you've given me all the respect. But what of your other old friends? One year you run around with this person, the next year with another person. That Italian boy who was so funny in the movies, he had some bad luck (неудачу = ему не везло) and you never saw him again because you were more famous. And how about your old, old comrade (а что насчет твоего старого товарища [‘komrıd]) that you went to school with, who was your partner singing? Nino. He drinks too much out of disappointment (из-за разочарования) but he never complains. He works hard driving the gravel truck (грузовик с гравием ['græv∂l]) and sings weekends for a few dollars. He never says anything against you. You couldn't help him a bit? Why not? He sings well."

Johnny Fontane said with patient weariness (с терпеливой усталостью, скукой = с досадой, что приходится объяснять [‘wı∂rınıs]; weary [‘wı∂rı] – усталый, изнуренный), "Godfather, he just hasn't got enough talent. He's OK, but he's not big time (но он не корифей; big time – достижение, успех)."

Don Corleone's face had become cold without a hint of sympathy. He said contemptuously, "You can start by acting like a man." Suddenly anger contorted his face. He shouted. "LIKE A MAN!" He reached over the desk and grabbed Johnny Fontane by the hair of his head in a gesture that was savagely affectionate. "By Christ in heaven, is it possible that you spent so much time in my presence and turned out no better than this? A Hollywood finocchio who weeps and begs for pity? Who cries out like a woman – 'What shall I do? Oh, what shall I do?' "

The mimicry of the Don was so extraordinary, so unexpected, that Hagen and Johnny were startled into laughter. Don Corleone was pleased. For a moment he reflected on how much he loved this godson. How would his own three sons have reacted to such a tongue-lashing? Santino would have sulked and behaved badly for weeks afterward. Fredo would have been cowed. Michael would have given him a cold smile and gone out of the house, not to be seen for months. But Johnny, ah, what a fine chap he was, smiling now, gathering strength, knowing already the true purpose of his Godfather.

Don Corleone went on. "You took the woman of your boss, a man more powerful than yourself, then you complain he won't help you. What nonsense. You left your family, your children without a father, to marry a whore and you weep because they don't welcome you back with open arms. The whore, you don't hit her in the face because she is making a picture, then you are amazed because she laughs at you. You lived like a fool and you have come to a fool's end."

Don Corleone paused to ask in a patient voice, "Are you willing to take my advice this time?"

Johnny Fontane shrugged. "I can't marry Ginny again, not the way she wants. I have to gamble, I have to drink, I have to go out with the boys. Beautiful broads run after me and I never could resist them. Then I used to feel like a heel when I went back to Ginny. Christ, I can't go through all that crap again."

It was rare that Don Corleone showed exasperation. "'I didn't tell you to get married again. Do what you want. It's good you wish to be a father to your children. A man who is not a father to his children can never be a real man. But then, you must make their mother accept you. Who says you can't see them every day? Who says you can't live in the same house? Who says you can't live your life exactly as you want to live it?"

Johnny Fontane laughed. "Godfather, not all women are like the old Italian wives. Ginny won't stand for it."

Now the Don was mocking. "Because you acted like a finocchio. You gave her more than the court said. You didn't hit the other in the face because she was making a picture. You let women dictate your actions and they are not competent in this world, though certainly they will be saints in heaven while we men burn in hell. And then I've watched you all these years." The Don's voice became earnest. "You've been a fine godson, you've given me all the respect. But what of your other old friends? One year you run around with this person, the next year with another person. That Italian boy who was so funny in the movies, he had some bad luck and you never saw him again because you were more famous. And how about your old, old comrade that you went to school with, who was your partner singing? Nino. He drinks too much out of disappointment but he never complains. He works hard driving the gravel truck and sings weekends for a few dollars. He never says anything against you. You couldn't help him a bit? Why not? He sings well."

Johnny Fontane said with patient weariness, "Godfather, he just hasn't got enough talent. He's OK, but he's not big time."

Don Corleone lidded his eyes almost closed (прикрыл веками; lid – веко) and then said, "And you, godson, you now, you just don't have talent enough. Shall I get you a job on the gravel truck with Nino?" When Johnny didn't answer, the Don went on. "Friendship is everything. Friendship is more than talent. It is more than government. It is almost the equal of family (/дружба/ почти равноценна семье; equal – ['i:kw∂l] – равный, равносильный, тождественный). Never forget that. If you had built up a wall of friendships (если бы ты построил стену = укрепление из дружеских связей) you wouldn't have to ask me to help (тебе бы не пришлось просить у меня помощи). Now tell me, why can't you sing? You sang well in the garden. As well as Nino."

Hagen and Johnny smiled at this delicate thrust (утонченный, искусный выпад, удар, укол; delicate ['delıkıt]). It was Johnny's turn to be patronizingly patient (настала его очередь быть снисходительно-терпеливым; patronize [‘pætr∂naız] – заботиться, опекать; относиться снисходительно, свысока). "My voice is weak. I sing one or two songs and then I can't sing again for hours or days. I can't make it through the rehearsals or the retakes (не выдерживаю, не могу продержаться во время репетиций или повторных записей). My voice is weak, it's got some sort of sickness (что-то с ним не так, тут какая-то болезнь: «получил какую-то болезнь»)."

"So you have woman trouble (женская проблема). Your voice is sick. Now tell me the trouble you're having with this Hollywood pezzonovante (с этой голливудской шишкой: 90-ый калибр /итал./) who won't let you work." The Don was getting down to business (переходил к делу).

"He's bigger than one of your pezzonovantes," Johnny said. "He owns the studio. He advises the President on movie propaganda for the war. Just a month ago he bought the movie rights to the biggest novel of the year. A best seller. And the main character is a guy just like me. I wouldn't even have to act, just be myself. I wouldn't even have to sing. I might even win the Academy Award (я, возможно, даже получу награду академии; award [∂’wo:d] – присуждение /награды, премии/). Everybody knows it's perfect for me and I'd be big again. As an actor. But that bastard Jack Woltz is paying me off, he won't give it to me. I offered to do it for nothing (я предложил сыграть бесплатно), for a minimum price and he still says no. He sent the word that if I come and kiss his ass (его задницу) in the studio commissary (на складе ['komıs∂rı]), maybe he'll think about it."

Don Corleone dismissed this emotional nonsense with a wave of his hand. Among reasonable men (среди разумных людей = между разумными людьми) problems of business could always be solved (всегда могут быть /раз/решены). He patted his godson on the shoulder (похлопал по плечу). "You're discouraged (деморализован: «обескуражен»; courage [‘kLrıdG] – отвага, мужество). Nobody cares about you, so you think. And you've lost a lot of weight (потерял много веса). You drink a lot, eh? You don't sleep and you take pills (таблетки /снотворное/)?" He shook his head disapprovingly (неодобрительно; to disapprove [dıs∂’pru:v] – не одобрять).

"Now I want you to follow my orders (следовать моим указаниям)," the Don said. "I want you to stay in my house for one month. I want you to eat well, to rest (отдохнуть) and sleep. I want you to be my companion, I enjoy your company, and maybe you can learn something about the world from your Godfather that might even help you in the great Hollywood. But no singing, no drinking and no women. At the end of the month you can go back to Hollywood and this pezzonovante, this .90 caliber will give you that job you want. Done (по рукам: «сделано»)?"

Johnny Fontane could not altogether believe (не мог вполне поверить) that the Don had such power. But his Godfather had never said such and such a thing could be done (что та или иная вещь может быть сделана) without having it done (и не сделал бы: «без того, чтобы ее сделать»). "This guy is a personal friend of J. Edgar Hoover (этот парень – личный друг Хувера /director of the FBI 1924–72/)," Johnny said. "You can't even raise your voice to him (он вас даже слушать не станет)."

"He's a businessman," the Don said blandly (мягко, ласково). "I'll make him an offer he can't refuse (я сделаю ему предложение, от которого он не сможет отказаться)."

"It's too late," Johnny said. "All the contracts have been signed (были подписаны; to sign [saın]) and they start shooting in a week (и они начинают снимать через неделю). It's absolutely impossible."

Don Corleone said, "Go, go back to the party. Your friends are waiting for you. Leave everything to me." He pushed Johnny Fontane out of the room (вытолкнул).

Don Corleone lidded his eyes almost closed and then said, "And you, godson, you now, you just don't have talent enough. Shall I get you a job on the gravel truck with Nino?" When Johnny didn't answer, the Don went on. "Friendship is everything. Friendship is more than talent. It is more than government. It is almost the equal of family. Never forget that. If you had built up a wall of friendships you wouldn't have to ask me to help. Now tell me, why can't you sing? You sang well in the garden. As well as Nino."

Hagen and Johnny smiled at this delicate thrust. It was Johnny's turn to be patronizingly patient. "My voice is weak. I sing one or two songs and then I can't sing again for hours or days. I can't make it through the rehearsals or the retakes. My voice is weak, it's got some sort of sickness."

"So you have woman trouble. Your voice is sick. Now tell me the trouble you're having with this Hollywood pezzonovante who won't let you work." The Don was getting down to business. "He's bigger than one of your pezzonovantes," Johnny said. "He owns the studio. He advises the President on movie propaganda for the war. Just a month ago he bought the movie rights to the biggest novel of the year. A best seller. And the main character is a guy just like me. I wouldn't even have to act, just be myself. I wouldn't even have to sing. I might even win the Academy Award. Everybody knows it's perfect for me and I'd be big again. As an actor. But that bastard Jack Woltz is paying me off, he won't give it to me. I offered to do it for nothing, for a minimum price and he still says no. He sent the word that if I come and kiss his ass in the studio commissary, maybe he'll think about it."

Don Corleone dismissed this emotional nonsense with a wave of his hand. Among reasonable men problems of business could always be solved. He patted his godson on the shoulder. "You're discouraged. Nobody cares about you, so you think. And you've lost a lot of weight. You drink a lot, eh? You don't sleep and you take pills?" He shook his head disapprovingly.

"Now I want you to follow my orders," the Don said. "I want you to stay in my house for one month. I want you to eat well, to rest and sleep. I want you to be my companion, I enjoy your company, and maybe you can learn something about the world from your Godfather that might even help you in the great Hollywood. But no singing, no drinking and no women. At the end of the month you can go back to Hollywood and this pezzonovante, this .90 caliber will give you that job you want. Done?"

Johnny Fontane could not altogether believe that the Don had such power. But his Godfather had never said such and such a thing could be done without having it done. "This guy is a personal friend of J. Edgar Hoover," Johnny said. "You can't even raise your voice to him."

"He's a businessman," the Don said blandly. "I'll make him an offer he can't refuse."

"It's too late," Johnny said. "All the contracts have been signed and they start shooting in a week. It's absolutely impossible."

Don Corleone said, "Go, go back to the party. Your friends are waiting for you. Leave everything to me." He pushed Johnny Fontane out of the room.

Hagen sat behind the desk and made notes. The Don heaved a sigh and asked, "Is there anything else?"

"Sollozzo can't be put off any more (/его/ нельзя больше откладывать). You'll have to see him this week." Hagen held his pen over the calendar.

The Don shrugged. "Now that the wedding is over, whenever you like (когда угодно)."

This answer told Hagen two things. Most important, that the answer to Virgil Sollozzo would be no (ответ будет отрицательным). The second, that Don Corleone, since he would not give the answer before his daughter's wedding (поскольку не хотел давать ответа до свадьбы дочери), expected his no to cause trouble (вызовет неприятности).

Hagen said cautiously (осторожно; cautious [‘ko:∫∂s] – осторожный, осмотрительный), "Shall I tell Clemenza to have some men come live in the house?"

The Don said impatiently, "For what? I didn't answer before the wedding because on an important day like that there should be no cloud (чтобы не было ни облачка), not even in the distance (даже вдалеке). Also I wanted to know beforehand (заранее) what he wanted to talk about. We know now. What he will propose is an infamita (бесчестие /итал./ = позорное дело, безобразие)."

Hagen asked, "Then you will refuse?" When the Don nodded, Hagen said, "I think we should all discuss it – the whole Family – before you give your answer."

The Don smiled. "You think so? Good, we will discuss it. When you come back from California. I want you to fly there tomorrow and settle this business for Johnny (уладить). See that movie pezzonovante. Tell Sollozzo I will see him when you get back from California. Is there anything else?"

Hagen said formally, "The hospital called. Consigliori Abbandando is dying, he won't last out the night (не протянет; to last [lα:st] – продолжаться, тянуться, длиться). His family was told to come and wait (его семье было сказано прийти и ждать)."

Hagen had filled the Consigliori’s post (занимал пост; to fill – наполнять; занимать /пост/) for the past year, ever since the cancer had imprisoned Genco Abbandando in his hospital bed (с того самого времени, как рак приковал Дженко к постели ['kæns∂]). Now he waited to hear Don Corleone say the post was his permanently (постоянно, навсегда). The odds were against it (все говорило против этого; odds – неравенство, разница; перевес, преимущество). So high a position was traditionally given only to a man descended from two Italian parents (происходящего от родителей-итальянцев; to descend [dı'send] – спускаться; происходить). There had already been trouble about his temporary performance of the duties (из-за временного исполнения этих обязанностей [p∂'fo:m∂ns]). Also (кроме того, к тому же), he was only thirty-five, not old enough, supposedly (как предполагалось), to have acquired the necessary experience (чтобы приобрести необходимый опыт; to acquire [∂’kwaı∂] – обзаводиться, приобретать) and cunning (умение, навыки; хитрость) for a successful Consigliori (для удачливого, преуспевающего советника; success [s∂k’s∂s] – успех, удача).

But the Don gave him no encouragement (никак его не обнадежил; encouragement – одобрение, поощрение [ın'kLrıdGm∂nt]). He asked, "When does my daughter leave with her bridegroom?"

Hagen looked at his wristwatch (ручные часы; wrist – запястье). "In a few minutes they'll cut the cake and then a half hour after that." That reminded him of something else. "Your new son-in-law. Do we give him something important, inside the Family (какое-нибудь важное дело, поручение в Семье)?"

He was surprised at the vehemence of the Don's answer (был удивлен силой, горячностью [‘vi:ım∂ns]). "Never." The Don hit the desk with the flat of his hand (ладонью, разжатой рукой; flat – плоский). "Never. Give him something to earn his living (чтобы зарабатывать на жизнь), a good living. But never let him know the Family's business. Tell the others, Sonny, Fredo, Clemenza."

The Don paused. "Instruct my sons, all three of them, that they will accompany me to the hospital (сопровождать [∂'kLmp∂nı]) to see poor Genco. I want them to pay their last respects (чтобы оказали последние почести). Tell Freddie to drive the big car and ask Johnny if he will come with us, as a special favor to me (как особое одолжение)." He saw Hagen look at him questioningly. "I want you to go to California tonight. You won't have time to go see Genco. But don't leave until I come back from the hospital and speak with you. Understood?"

"Understood," Hagen said. "What time should Fred have the car waiting?"

"When the guests have left," Don Corleone said. "Genco will wait for me."

"The Senator called," Hagen said. "Apologizing for not coming personally (извиняясь, что не прибыл лично) but that you would understand. He probably means (возможно, имеет в виду) those two FBI men across the street taking down license numbers. But he sent his gift over by special messenger (переслал со специальным посланником, курьером ['mesındG∂])."

The Don nodded. He did not think it necessary to mention (не посчитал необходимым упомянуть, сказать) that he himself had warned the Senator not to come (предостерег). "Did he send a nice present?"

Hagen made a face of impressed approval («впечатленного одобрения») that was very strangely Italian on his German-Irish features. "Antique silver, very valuable (очень ценное ['vælju∂bl]). The kids can sell it for a grand at least (за штуку /баксов/ как минимум, самое малое). The Senator spent a lot of time getting exactly the right thing (потратил массу времени, чтобы достать точно то, что нужно, что он искал). For those kind of people that's more important than how much it costs."

Don Corleone did not hide his pleasure (не скрыл: «не спрятал» удовольствия, радости) that so great a man as the Senator had shown him such respect. The Senator, like Luca Brasi, was one of the great stones in the Don's power structure, and he too, with this gift, had resworn his loyalty (возобновил клятву, присягу своей лояльности: «поклялся вновь»; to swear [swe∂] – клясться, присягать).

Hagen sat behind the desk and made notes. The Don heaved a sigh and asked, "Is there anything else?"

"Sollozzo can't be put off any more. You'll have to see him this week." Hagen held his pen over the calendar.

The Don shrugged. "Now that the wedding is over, whenever you like."

This answer told Hagen two things. Most important, that the answer to Virgil Sollozzo would be no. The second, that Don Corleone, since he would not give the answer before his daughter's wedding, expected his no to cause trouble.

Hagen said cautiously, "Shall I tell Clemenza to have some men come live in the house?"

The Don said impatiently, "For what? I didn't answer before the wedding because on an important day like that there should be no cloud, not even in the distance. Also I wanted to know beforehand what he wanted to talk about. We know now. What he will propose is an infamita."

Hagen asked, "Then you will refuse?" When the Don nodded, Hagen said, "I think we should all discuss it – the whole Family – before you give your answer."

The Don smiled. "You think so? Good, we will discuss it. When you come back from California. I want you to fly there tomorrow and settle this business for Johnny. See that movie pezzonovante. Tell Sollozzo I will see him when you get back from California. Is there anything else?"

Hagen said formally, "The hospital called. Consigliori Abbandando is dying, he won't last out the night. His family was told to come and wait."

Hagen had filled the Consigliori’s post for the past year, ever since the cancer had imprisoned Genco Abbandando in his hospital bed. Now he waited to hear Don Corleone say the post was his permanently. The odds were against it. So high a position was traditionally given only to a man descended from two Italian parents. There had already been trouble about his temporary performance of the duties. Also, he was only thirty-five, not old enough, supposedly, to have acquired the necessary experience and cunning for a successful Consigliori.

But the Don gave him no encouragement. He asked, "When does my daughter leave with her bridegroom?"

Hagen looked at his wristwatch. "In a few minutes they'll cut the cake and then a half hour after that." That reminded him of something else. "Your new son-in-law. Do we give him something important, inside the Family?"

He was surprised at the vehemence of the Don's answer. "Never." The Don hit the desk with the flat of his hand. "Never. Give him something to earn his living, a good living. But never let him know the Family's business. Tell the others, Sonny, Fredo, Clemenza."

The Don paused. "Instruct my sons, all three of them, that they will accompany me to the hospital to see poor Genco. I want them to pay their last respects. Tell Freddie to drive the big car and ask Johnny if he will come with us, as a special favor to me." He saw Hagen look at him questioningly. "I want you to go to California tonight. You won't have time to go see Genco. But don't leave until I come back from the hospital and speak with you. Understood?"

"Understood," Hagen said. "What time should Fred have the car waiting?"

"When the guests have left," Don Corleone said. "Genco will wait for me."

"The Senator called," Hagen said. "Apologizing for not coming personally but that you would understand. He probably means those two FBI men across the street taking down license numbers. But he sent his gift over by special messenger."

The Don nodded. He did not think it necessary to mention that he himself had warned the Senator not to come. "Did he send a nice present?"

Hagen made a face of impressed approval that was very strangely Italian on his German-Irish features. "Antique silver, very valuable. The kids can sell it for a grand at least. The Senator spent a lot of time getting exactly the right thing. For those kind of people that's more important than how much it costs."

Don Corleone did not hide his pleasure that so great a man as the Senator had shown him such respect. The Senator, like Luca Brasi, was one of the great stones in the Don's power structure, and he too, with this gift, had resworn his loyalty.

When Johnny Fontane appeared in the garden, Kay Adams recognized him immediately (сразу узнала). She was truly surprised (поистине удивлена). "You never told me your family knew Johnny Fontane," she said. "Now I'm sure I'll marry you."

"Do you want to meet him (хочешь с ним познакомиться)?" Michael asked.

"Not now," Kay said. She sighed. "I was in love with him for three years (была влюблена). I used to come down to New York whenever he sang at the Capitol and scream my head off (и орала, как сумасшедшая: «так, что голова отваливалась»; to scream – пронзительно кричать, вопить). He was so wonderful."

"We'll meet him later," Michael said.

When Johnny finished singing and vanished into the house with Don Corleone (скрылся в дом; to vanish [‘vænı∫] – исчезать, пропадать), Kay said archly (лукаво, насмешливо) to Michael, "Don't tell me a big movie star like Johnny Fontane has to ask your father for a favor?"

"He's my father's godson," Michael said. "And if it wasn't for my father (и если бы не мой отец: не из-за моего отца») he might not be a big movie star today."

Kay Adams laughed with delight (весело рассмеялась; delight – удовольствие, наслаждение). "That sounds like another great story (это похоже на еще одну отличную историю: «звучит как еще одна отличная история»)."

Michael shook his head. "I can't tell that one," he said.

"Trust me (доверься мне, доверяй мне)," she said.

He told her. He told her without being funny (без шуток, не стремясь ее позабавить: «не будучи забавным»). He told it without pride (без гордости = не гордясь). He told it without any sort of explanation (безо всякого объяснения) except that eight years before his father had been more impetuous (был более импульсивный, порывистый, горячий [ım’petju∂s]; impetus [‘ımpet∂s] – стремительность; импульс), and because the matter concerned his godson (поскольку дело касалось его крестника), the Don considered it an affair of personal honor (счел это делом, расценил это как дело личной чести).

The story was quickly told (рассказать эту историю было недолго: «была быстро рассказана»). Eight years ago Johnny Fontane had made an extraordinary success (добился необыкновенного успеха [ıks’tro:dn∂rı]) singing with a popular dance band. He had become a top radio attraction (главным «привлечением» = звездой, гвоздем программ). Unfortunately the band leader, a well-known show business personality named Les Halley, had signed Johnny to a five-year personal services contract (подписал контракт; to sign [saın]). It was a common show business practice (это была обычная практика = так практиковалось в шоу-бизнесе). Les Halley could now loan Johnny out («одалживать» /другим фирмам/) and pocket most of the money (и класть в карман большую часть денег).

Don Corleone entered the negotiations personally (лично занялся переговорами [nıg∂u∫i’eı∫n]). He offered Les Halley twenty thousand dollars (предложил) to release (освободить = чтобы он освободил) Johnny Fontane from the personal services contract. Halley offered to take only fifty percent of Johnny's earnings (50 процентов заработков; to earn [∂:n] – зарабатывать). Don Corleone was amused (его это позабавило, развеселило: «был развлечен» to amuse [∂’mju:z]). He dropped his offer (снизил; to drop – уронить) from twenty thousand dollars to ten thousand dollars. The band leader, obviously (очевидно) not a man of the world (не светский человек, не от мира сего) outside his beloved show business (вне своего любимого шоу-бизнеса), completely missed the significance of this lower offer (совершенно упустил значение этого более низкого, сниженного предложения = не понял, что оно означает). He refused (отказался).

The next day Don Corleone went to see the band leader personally. He brought with him his two best friends, Genco Abbandando, who was his Consigliori, and Luca Brasi. With no other witnesses (без других каких-либо свидетелей) Don Corleone persuaded Les Halley to sign a document (убедил [p∂’sweıd]) giving up all rights (отказавшись, отказываясь от всех прав) to all services from Johnny Fontane upon payment of a certified check to the amount of ten thousand dollars (взамен на выплату заверенного чека на сумму в десять тысяч долларов). Don Corleone did this by putting a pistol to the forehead of the band leader (приставив ко лбу) and assuring him (заверив его) with the utmost seriousness (с крайней серьезностью) that either his signature or his brains would rest on that document (либо подпись, либо мозги будут на документе; to rest – покоиться, лежать) in exactly one minute. Les Halley signed. Don Corleone pocketed his pistol and handed over the certified check (передал).

The rest was history (остальное было, стало историей). Johnny Fontane went on to become the greatest singing sensation in the country (продолжал становиться, становился все большей сенсацией). He made Hollywood musicals that earned a fortune for his studio. His records made millions of dollars. Then he divorced his childhood-sweetheart wife (развелся со своей детской любовью; sweetheart – возлюбленная) and left his two children, to marry the most glamorous (на самой обаятельной, эффектной [‘glæm∂r∂s]; glamor [‘glæm∂] – чары, обаяние) blond star in motion pictures (в кино). He soon learned that she was a "whore." He drank, he gambled, he chased other women (гонялся, преследовал). He lost his singing voice. His records stopped selling (его записи перестали продаваться). The studio did not renew his contract. And so now he had come back to his Godfather.

Kay said thoughtfully (задумчиво), "Are you sure you're not jealous of your father (ты уверен, что не завидуешь; jealous [‘dGel∂s]) – ревнивый, ревнующий; завидующий)? Everything you've told me about him shows him doing something for other people. He must be good-hearted (он, должно быть, добрый)." She smiled wryly (криво усмехнулась; wry – кривой, перекошенный). "Of course his methods are not exactly constitutional."

Michael sighed. "I guess that's the way it sounds, but let me tell you this (но я вот что тебе скажу: «позволь мне сказать тебе это»). You know those Arctic explorers (исследователи Арктики; to explore [ıks’plo:] – исследовать) who leave caches of food (запасы провианта; cache [kæ∫] – тайник; запас провианта, оставленный экспедицией в скрытом месте) scattered on the route to the North Pole (разбросанные, рассредоточенные по маршруту к Северному Полюсу; route [ru:t] – путь, направление)? Just in case they may need them someday (просто на тот случай, что это может им когда-нибудь понадобиться)? That's my father's favors. Someday he'll be at each one of those people's houses (он к ним придет, постучится к ним) and they had better come across (и им лучше пойти ему навстречу = помочь ему; to come across – случайно встретиться, натолкнуться)."

When Johnny Fontane appeared in the garden, Kay Adams recognized him immediately. She was truly surprised. "You never told me your family knew Johnny Fontane," she said. "Now I'm sure I'll marry you."

"Do you want to meet him?" Michael asked.

"Not now," Kay said. She sighed. "I was in love with him for three years. I used to come down to New York whenever he sang at the Capitol and scream my head off. He was so wonderful."

"We'll meet him later," Michael said.

When Johnny finished singing and vanished into the house with Don Corleone, Kay said archly to Michael, "Don't tell me a big movie star like Johnny Fontane has to ask your father for a favor?"

"He's my father's godson," Michael said. "And if it wasn't for my father he might not be a big movie star today."

Kay Adams laughed with delight. "That sounds like another great story."

Michael shook his head. "I can't tell that one," he said.

"Trust me," she said.

He told her. He told her without being funny. He told it without pride. He told it without any sort of explanation except that eight years before his father had been more impetuous, and because the matter concerned his godson, the Don considered it an affair of personal honor.

The story was quickly told. Eight years ago Johnny Fontane had made an extraordinary success singing with a popular dance band. He had become a top radio attraction. Unfortunately the band leader, a well-known show business personality named Les Halley, had signed Johnny to a five-year personal services contract. It was a common show business practice. Les Halley could now loan Johnny out and pocket most of the money.

Don Corleone entered the negotiations personally. He offered Les Halley twenty thousand dollars to release Johnny Fontane from the personal services contract. Halley offered to take only fifty percent of Johnny's earnings. Don Corleone was amused. He dropped his offer from twenty thousand dollars to ten thousand dollars. The band leader, obviously not a man of the world outside his beloved show business, completely missed the significance of this lower offer. He refused.

The next day Don Corleone went to see the band leader personally. He brought with him his two best friends, Genco Abbandando, who was his Consigliori, and Luca Brasi. With no other witnesses Don Corleone persuaded Les Halley to sign a document giving up all rights to all services from Johnny Fontane upon payment of a certified check to the amount of ten thousand dollars. Don Corleone did this by putting a pistol to the forehead of the band leader and assuring him with the utmost seriousness that either his signature or his brains would rest on that document in exactly one minute. Les Halley signed. Don Corleone pocketed his pistol and handed over the certified check.

The rest was history. Johnny Fontane went on to become the greatest singing sensation in the country. He made Hollywood musicals that earned a fortune for his studio. His records made millions of dollars. Then he divorced his childhood-sweetheart wife and left his two children, to marry the most glamorous blond star in motion pictures. He soon learned that she was a "whore." He drank, he gambled, he chased other women. He lost his singing voice. His records stopped selling. The studio did not renew his contract. And so now he had come back to his Godfather.

Kay said thoughtfully, "Are you sure you're not jealous of your father? Everything you've told me about him shows him doing something for other people. He must be good-hearted." She smiled wryly. "Of course his methods are not exactly constitutional."

Michael sighed. "I guess that's the way it sounds, but let me tell you this. You know those Arctic explorers who leave caches of food scattered on the route to the North Pole? Just in case they may need them someday? That's my father's favors. Someday he'll be at each one of those people's houses and they had better come across."

It was nearly twilight (почти сумерки) before the wedding cake was shown (прежде был подан: «показан» свадебный пирог), exclaimed over (принят восторженными возгласами; to exclaim [ıks’kleım] – восклицать) and eaten. Specially baked by Nazorine, it was cleverly decorated with shells of cream (искусно украшен кремовыми ракушками) so dizzyingly delicious (настолько головокружительно вкусными; dizzy – испытывающий головокружение; delicious [dı’lı∫∂s] – восхитительный; очень вкусный) that the bride greedily plucked them from the corpse of the cake (жадно сорвала их с «корпуса» пирога) before she whizzed away (умчалась; to whizz – проноситься со свистом) on her honeymoon (медовый месяц) with her blond groom. The Don politely sped his guests' departure (вежливо ускорил отъезд своих гостей: to speed), noting meanwhile (отметив про себя между тем) that the black sedan with its FBI men was no longer visible (больше не был видим = его больше не было видно).

Finally the only car left in the driveway (на дороге, в проезде) was the long black Cadillac with Freddie at the wheel (за рулем), The Don got into the front seat (сел на переднее сиденье), moving with quick coordination for his age and bulk (для своего возраста и веса: «массы»). Sonny, Michael and Johnny Fontane got into the back seat. Don Corleone said to his son Michael, "Your girl friend, she'll get back to the city by herself all right (доберется сама без проблем)?"

Michael nodded. "Tom said he'd take care of it (позаботится об этом)," Don Corleone nodded with satisfaction at Hagen's efficiency (удовлетворенный расторопностью Хагена; efficient [ı’fı∫nt] – действенный, эффективный).

Because of the gas rationing still in effect (из-за того, что бензин все еще выдавался по карточкам; rationing [‘ræ∫nıŋ] – нормирование продуктов; продажа по карточкам), there was little traffic (мало движения транспорта) on the Belt Parkway to Manhattan. In less than an hour the Cadillac rolled into the street of French Hospital. During the ride Don Corleone asked his youngest son if he was doing well in school (хорошо ли он учится, все ли в порядке с учебой). Michael nodded. Then Sonny in the back seat asked his father, "Johnny says you're getting him squared away (уладишь; to square [skwe∂] – придавать квадратную форму, обтесывать; улаживать, приводить в порядок; square – квадрат) with that Hollywood business. Do you want me to go out there and help?"

Don Corleone was curt (короткий, лаконичный; отрывисто-грубый), "Tom is going tonight. He won't need any help, it's a simple affair."

Sonny Corleone laughed. "Johnny thinks you can't fix it (уладить; to fix – устанавливать, прикреплять; приводить в порядок), that's why I thought you might want me to go out there."

Don Corleone turned his head. "Why do you doubt me (сомневаешься во мне [daut])?" he asked Johnny Fontane. "Hasn't your Godfather always done what he said he would do? Have I ever been taken for a fool (разве когда-либо меня принимали за дурачка, обдуривали)?"

Johnny apologized nervously. "Godfather, the man who runs it (кто ведет /этот бизнес/) is a real .90 caliber pezzonovante (настоящий 90-ый калибер = крупная шишка). You can't budge him (пошевельнуть, сдвинуть с места), not even with money. He has big connections (связи). And he hates me. I just don't know how you can swing it (это обделать: to swing – качнуть; успешно обделать дельце)."

The Don spoke with affectionate amusement. "I say to you: you shall have it." He nudged Michael with his elbow (подтолкнул локтем). "We won't disappoint my godson (не разочаруем), eh, Michael?"

Michael, who never doubted his father for a moment, shook his head.

As they walked toward the hospital entrance (ко входу), Don Corleone put his hand on Michael's arm so that the others forged ahead (медленно продвигались вперед). "When you get through with college (когда разделаешься, покончишь с колледжем), come and talk to me," the Don said. "I have some plans you will like."

Michael didn't say anything. Don Corleone grunted in exasperation (промычал, проворчал; to grunt – хрюкать; ворчать). "I now how you are. I won't ask you to do anything you don't approve of (то, что ты не одобряешь). This is something special (нечто особое). Go your own way now, you're a man after all (в конце концов). But come to me as a son should when you have finished with your schooling."

It was nearly twilight before the wedding cake was shown, exclaimed over and eaten. Specially baked by Nazorine, it was cleverly decorated with shells of cream so dizzyingly delicious that the bride greedily plucked them from the corpse of the cake before she whizzed away on her honeymoon with her blond groom. The Don politely sped his guests' departure, noting meanwhile that the black sedan with its FBI men was no longer visible.

Finally the only car left in the driveway was the long black Cadillac with Freddie at the wheel, The Don got into the front seat, moving with quick coordination for his age and bulk. Sonny, Michael and Johnny Fontane got into the back seat. Don Corleone said to his son Michael, "Your girl friend, she'll get back to the city by herself all right?"

Michael nodded. "Tom said he'd take care of it," Don Corleone nodded with satisfaction at Hagen's efficiency.

Because of the gas rationing still in effect, there was little traffic on the Belt Parkway to Manhattan. In less than an hour the Cadillac rolled into the street of French Hospital. During the ride Don Corleone asked his youngest son if he was doing well in school. Michael nodded. Then Sonny in the back seat asked his father, "Johnny says you're getting him squared away with that Hollywood business. Do you want me to go out there and help?"

Don Corleone was curt, "Tom is going tonight. He won't need any help, it's a simple affair."

Sonny Corleone laughed. "Johnny thinks you can't fix it, that's why I thought you might want me to go out there."

Don Corleone turned his head. "Why do you doubt me?" he asked Johnny Fontane. "Hasn't your Godfather always done what he said he would do? Have I ever been taken for a fool?"

Johnny apologized nervously. "Godfather, the man who runs it is a real .90 caliber pezzonovante. You can't budge him, not even with money. He has big connections. And he hates me. I just don't know how you can swing it."

The Don spoke with affectionate amusement. "I say to you: you shall have it." He nudged Michael with his elbow. "We won't disappoint my godson, eh, Michael?"

Michael, who never doubted his father for a moment, shook his head.

As they walked toward the hospital entrance, Don Corleone put his hand on Michael's arm so that the others forged ahead. "When you get through with college, come and talk to me," the Don said. "I have some plans you will like."

Michael didn't say anything. Don Corleone grunted in exasperation. "I now how you are. I won't ask you to do anything you don't approve of. This is something special. Go your own way now, you're a man after all. But come to me as a son should when you have finished with your schooling."

The family of Genco Abbandando, wife and three daughters dressed in black, clustered like a flock of plump crows (столпились, сгрудились как стая толстых, пухлых ворон; cluster – кисть, пучок, гроздь) on the white tile floor (на полу, выложенном белыми плитками; tile – плитка, кафель, изразец) of the hospital corridor. When they saw Don Corleone come out of the elevator (из лифта), they seemed to flutter up off (показалось, что вспорхнули; to flutter – махать или бить крыльями, перепархивать) the white tiles in an instinctive surge (порыве; surge – большая волна всплеск) toward him for protection (ища защиты). The mother was regally stout in black (по-королевски полной в своем черном одеянии; stout – крепкий, прочный; полный /человек/), the daughters fat and plain (толстые и некрасивые). Mrs. Abbandando pecked at Don Corleone's cheek (чмокнул: «клюнул»), sobbing (всхлипывая; to sob – рыдать, всхлипывать), wailing (причитая, стеня), "Oh, what a saint you are (какой же ты святой), to come here on your daughter's wedding day."

Don Corleone brushed these thanks aside (отмахнулся от этих выражений благодарности: «отмел»; brush – щетка). "Don't I owe respect to such a friend, a friend who has been my right arm for twenty years?" He had understood immediately that the soon-to-be widow did not comprehend (что женщина, которая вскоре станет вдовой, не понимала, не осознавала [komprı'hend]) that her husband would die this night. Genco Abbandando had been in this hospital for nearly a year dying of his cancer (умирая от рака) and the wife had come to consider his fatal illness almost an ordinary part of life (стала считать его смертельную болезнь почти обычной /составной/ частью жизни). Tonight was just another crisis. She babbled on (продолжала лепетать). "Go in and see my poor husband," she said, "he asks for you. Poor man, he wanted to come to the wedding to show his respect but the doctor would not permit it (не разрешил). Then he said you would come to see him on this great day but I did not believe it possible. Ah, men understand friendship more than we women. Go inside, you will make him happy."

A nurse (медсестра) and a doctor came out of Genco Abbandando's private room. The doctor was a young man, serious-faced and with the air of one born to command (с видом рожденного повелевать), that is to say (то есть), the air of one who has been immensely rich all his life (безмерно богат). One of the daughters asked timidly (робко; timid ['tımıd] – робкий, застенчивый), "Dr. Kennedy, can we go to see him now?"

Dr. Kennedy looked over the large group with exasperation (посмотрел на большую группу с раздражением). Didn't these people realize (разве не осознают) that the man inside was dying and dying in torturous pain (в муках: «в мучительной боли»; torture [‘to:t∫∂] – пытка, мука)? It would be much better if everyone let him die in peace. "I think just the immediate family (только близкие: «непосредственные» родственники)," be said in his exquisitely polite voice (изысканно-вежливым голосом; exquisite ['ekskwızıt] – изысканный, утонченный). He was surprised when the wife and daughters turned to the short, heavy man (к невысокому, приземистому человеку) dressed in an awkwardly fitted tuxedo (в неловко сидящий смокинг; to fit – быть впору, подходить; awkward ['o:kw∂d] – неуклюжий, неловкий), as if to hear his decision (словно для того, чтобы услышать его решение).

The heavy man spoke. There was just the slightest trace of an Italian accent in his voice (легчайший след = оттенок). "My dear doctor," said Don Corleone, "is it true he is dying?"

"Yes," said Dr. Kennedy.

"Then there is nothing more for you to do (тогда вы здесь больше ничего не можете сделать)," said Don Corleone. "We will take up the burden (мы возьмем на себя бремя). We will comfort him (утешим [‘kLmf∂t]). We will close his eyes. We will bury him (похороним; to bury [‘beri] – хоронить, зарывать в землю) and weep at his funeral (на его похоронах [fju:n∂r∂l]) and afterwards we will watch over his wife and daughters (позаботимся)." At hearing things put so bluntly (слыша такую прямолинейную постановку вопроса; blunt – тупой; грубый; прямой, резкий), forcing her to understand (которая вынуждала ее понять /что происходит/), Mrs. Abbandando began to weep.

Dr. Kennedy shrugged (пожал плечами). It was impossible to explain to these peasants (объяснять этим крестьянам ['pez∂nt]). At the same time he recognized the crude justice in the man's remarks («голую, неприкрашенную справедливость в замечаниях этого человека»; crude – необработанный, неочищенный). His role was over (его роль была окончена). Still exquisitely polite, he said, "Please wait for the nurse to let you in, she has a few necessary things to do with the patient." He walked away from them down the corridor, his white coat flapping (с развевающимся белым халатом).

The nurse went back into the room and they waited. Finally she came out again, holding the door for them to enter. She whispered, "He's delirious (находящийся в бреду [dı'lırı∂s]; dilirium [dı'lırı∂m] – бред, расстройство сознания) with the pain and fever (с температурой; fever – лихорадка), try not to excite him (пострайтесь не разволновать, перевозбудить его; to excite – возбуждать). And you can stay only a few minutes, except for the wife." She recognized Johnny Fontane as he went by her and her eyes opened wide. He gave her a faint smile of acknowledgment (слабую, вялую улыбку признания, признавания = что он заметил ее интерес) and she stared at him with frank invitation (глазела на него с откровенным вызовом: «приглашением»). He filed her away for future reference («зарегистрировал, подшил к делу» для дальнейшей справки = чтобы при случае обратиться к этому в последствии), then followed the others into the sick man's room.

The family of Genco Abbandando, wife and three daughters dressed in black, clustered like a flock of plump crows on the white tile floor of the hospital corridor. When they saw Don Corleone come out of the elevator, they seemed to flutter up off the white tiles in an instinctive surge toward him for protection. The mother was regally stout in black, the daughters fat and plain. Mrs. Abbandando pecked at Don Corleone's cheek, sobbing, wailing, "Oh, what a saint you are, to come here on your daughter's wedding day."

Don Corleone brushed these thanks aside. "Don't I owe respect to such a friend, a friend who has been my right arm for twenty years?" He had understood immediately that the soon-to-be widow did not comprehend that her husband would die this night. Genco Abbandando had been in this hospital for nearly a year dying of his cancer and the wife had come to consider his fatal illness almost an ordinary part of life. Tonight was just another crisis. She babbled on. "Go in and see my poor husband," she said, "he asks for you. Poor man, he wanted to come to the wedding to show his respect but the doctor would not permit it. Then he said you would come to see him on this great day but I did not believe it possible. Ah, men understand friendship more than we women. Go inside, you will make him happy."

A nurse and a doctor came out of Genco Abbandando's private room. The doctor was a young man, serious-faced and with the air of one born to command, that is to say, the air of one who has been immensely rich all his life. One of the daughters asked timidly, "Dr. Kennedy, can we go to see him now?"

Dr. Kennedy looked over the large group with exasperation. Didn't these people realize that the man inside was dying and dying in torturous pain? It would be much better if everyone let him die in peace. "I think just the immediate family," be said in his exquisitely polite voice. He was surprised when the wife and daughters turned to the short, heavy man dressed in an awkwardly fitted tuxedo, as if to hear his decision.

The heavy man spoke. There was just the slightest trace of an Italian accent in his voice. "My dear doctor," said Don Corleone, "is it true he is dying?"

"Yes," said Dr. Kennedy.

"Then there is nothing more for you to do," said Don Corleone. "We will take up the burden. We will comfort him. We will close his eyes. We will bury him and weep at his funeral and afterwards we will watch over his wife and daughters." At hearing things put so bluntly, forcing her to understand, Mrs. Abbandando began to weep.

Dr. Kennedy shrugged. It was impossible to explain to these peasants. At the same time he recognized the crude justice in the man's remarks. His role was over. Still exquisitely polite, he said, "Please wait for the nurse to let you in, she has a few necessary things to do with the patient." He walked away from them down the corridor, his white coat flapping.

The nurse went back into the room and they waited. Finally she came out again, holding the door for them to enter. She whispered, "He's delirious with the pain and fever, try not to excite him. And you can stay only a few minutes, except for the wife." She recognized Johnny Fontane as he went by her and her eyes opened wide. He gave her a faint smile of acknowledgment and she stared at him with frank invitation. He filed her away for future reference, then followed the others into the sick man's room.

Genco Abbandando had run a long race with death (долго состязался, бежал наперегонки со смертью; race – состязание, бег), and now, vanquished (побежденный), he lay exhausted (изможденный; to exhaust [ıg’zo:st] – исчерпывать, израсходовать /полностью/; изнурять) on the raised bed (на поднятой /в изголовье/ постели). He was wasted away to no more than a skeleton (от него остался не более как скелет; to waste – растрачивать), and what had once been vigorous black hair (густые черные волосы; vigorous [‘vıg∂r∂s] – сильный, энергичный) had turned into obscene stringy wisps (в неприличные, свисающие прядями, клочки, пучки; string – веревка, ремешок). Don Corleone said cheerily (ободряюще), "Genco, dear friend, I have brought my sons to pay their respects, and look, even Johnny, all the way from Hollywood."

The dying man raised his fevered eyes gratefully to the Don. He let the young men clasp his bony hand in their fleshy ones (дал молодым людям крепко пожать: «сжать, сдавить» свою костлявую ладонь в их мясистых ручищах). His wife and daughters ranged themselves along his bed (встали, выстроились в ряд вдоль его кровати), kissing his cheek, taking his other hand in turn (по очереди).

The Don pressed his old friend's hand. He said comfortingly, "Hurry up and get better (поспеши и выздоравливай = давай скорее выздоравливай) and we'll take a trip back to Italy together to our old village (отправимся вместе; trip – поездка, путешествие). We'll play boccie in front of the wineshop (поиграем в /деревянные/ шары /итал./) like our fathers before us."

The dying man shook his head. He motioned the young men and his family away from his bedside (показал жестом, чтобы отошли от его кровати); with the other bony claw he hung fast to the Don (другой костлявой лапой он крепко, тесно притянул себя: «повис» к Дону; claw – коготь; клешня; лапа). He tried to speak. The Don put his head down and then sat on the bedside chair. Genco Abbandando was babbling about their childhood. Then his coal-black eyes became sly (затем его черные, как уголь, глаза сделались хитрыми). He whispered. The Don bent closer (наклонился ближе; to bend). The others in the room were astonished (удивлены, изумлены [∂s’tonı∫]) to see tears running down Don Corleone's face as he shook his head. The quavering voice (дрожащий голос; to quaver [‘kweıv∂] – дрожать, вибрировать) grew louder (становился громче; to grow – расти), filling the room (наполняя, заполняя комнату). With a tortured, superhuman effort (со сверхчеловеческим = нечеловеческим усилием ['ef∂t]), Abbandando lifted his head off his pillow, eyes unseeing, and pointed a skeletal forefinger (указал указательным пальцем) at the Don. "Godfather, Godfather," he called out blindly, "save me from death, I beg of you (спаси меня от смерти, умоляю тебя). My flesh is burning off my bones (моя плоть «сгорает с моих костей») and I can feel the worms eating away my brain (чувствую червей, пожирающих мой мозг). Godfather, cure me (исцели меня), you have the power, dry the tears of my poor wife (осуши слезы). In Corleone we played together as children and now will you let me die when I fear hell for my sins (когда я боюсь ада за свои грехи)?"

The Don was silent. Abbandando said, "It is your daughter's wedding day, you cannot refuse me."

The Don spoke quietly, gravely, to pierce through the blasphemous delirium (чтобы пробиться сквозь богохульствующий бред; to pierce [‘pı∂s] – прокалывать, пронзать; [‘blæsfım∂s]). "Old friend," he said, "I have no such powers. If I did I would be more merciful than God (более милосердным, милосерднее Бога), believe me. But don't fear death and don't fear hell. I will have a mass said for your soul every night and every morning (закажу мессу). Your wife and your children will pray for you. How can God punish you (наказать) with so many pleas for mercy (при стольких просьбах о помиловании, снисхождении; plea – судебный акт, тяжба; обращение одной из сторон /в суде/; аппеляция)?"

The skeleton face took on a cunning expression (хитрое, коварное выражение; cunning – знание, познания /устар./; хитрость, умение; коварство) that was obscene. Abbandando said slyly (лукаво), "It's been arranged then (значит, все улажено)?"

When the Don answered, his voice was cold, without comfort. "You blaspheme (богохульствуешь [blæs’fi:m]). Resign yourself (смирись [ri'zain])."

Abbandando fell back on the pillow (упал на подушку). His eyes lost their wild gleam of hope (утратили слабый свет, проблеск надежды; to gleam – мерцать). The nurse came back into the room and started shooing them out (выгонять, выпроваживать; shoo – кыш; to shoo – вспугивать, прогонять /птиц/) in a very matter-of-fact way (очень по-деловому, сухо = строго). The Don got up but Abbandando put out his hand. "Godfather," he said, "stay here with me and help me meet death. Perhaps if He sees you near me He will be frightened (испугается: «будет напуган») and leave me in peace. Or perhaps you can say a word, pull a few strings (замолвишь словечко, потянешь за ниточки /как в кукольном театре/ = используешь связи), eh?" The dying man winked as if he were mocking the Don (подмигнул, как будто подшучивал, насмехался), now not really serious. "You're brothers in blood («братья по крови» = побратимы), after all." Then, as if fearing the Don would be offended (словно опасаясь, что Дон будет оскорблен), he clutched at his hand (схватил, зажал). "Stay with me, let me hold your hand. We'll outwit that bastard (перехитрим этого ублюдка; wit – разум, ум) as we've outwitted others. Godfather, don't betray me (не предавай меня)."

The Don motioned the other people out of the room. They left. He took the withered claw (высохшую; to wither [‘wıð∂] – вянуть; сохнуть) of Genco Abbandando in his own two broad hands. Softly, reassuringly (мягко, успокаивающе; to reassure [rı∂’∫u∂] – уверять, заверять; успокаивать), he comforted his friend, as they waited for death together. As if the Don could truly snatch the life of Genco Abbandando back (выхватить, вырвать) from that most foul (от этого, у этого самого грязного, подлого [faul]) and criminal traitor to man (и преступного предателя человека).

Genco Abbandando had run a long race with death, and now, vanquished, he lay exhausted on the raised bed. He was wasted away to no more than a skeleton, and what had once been vigorous black hair had turned into obscene stringy wisps. Don Corleone said cheerily, "Genco, dear friend, I have brought my sons to pay their respects, and look, even Johnny, all the way from Hollywood."

The dying man raised his fevered eyes gratefully to the Don. He let the young men clasp his bony hand in their fleshy ones. His wife and daughters ranged themselves along his bed, kissing his cheek, taking his other hand in turn.

The Don pressed his old friend's hand. He said comfortingly, "Hurry up and get better and we'll take a trip back to Italy together to our old village. We'll play boccie in front of the wineshop like our fathers before us."

The dying man shook his head. He motioned the young men and his family away from his bedside; with the other bony claw he hung fast to the Don. He tried to speak. The Don put his head down and then sat on the bedside chair. Genco Abbandando was babbling about their childhood. Then his coal-black eyes became sly. He whispered. The Don bent closer. The others in the room were astonished to see tears running down Don Corleone's face as he shook his head. The quavering voice grew louder, filling the room. With a tortured, superhuman effort, Abbandando lifted his head off his pillow, eyes unseeing, and pointed a skeletal forefinger at the Don. "Godfather, Godfather," he called out blindly, "save me from death, I beg of you. My flesh is burning off my bones and I can feel the worms eating away my brain. Godfather, cure me, you have the power, dry the tears of my poor wife. In Corleone we played together as children and now will you let me die when I fear hell for my sins?"

The Don was silent. Abbandando said, "It is your daughter's wedding day, you cannot refuse me."

The Don spoke quietly, gravely, to pierce through the blasphemous delirium. "Old friend," he said, "I have no such powers. If I did I would be more merciful than God, believe me. But don't fear death and don't fear hell. I will have a mass said for your soul every night and every morning. Your wife and your children will pray for you. How can God punish you with so many pleas for mercy?"

The skeleton face took on a cunning expression that was obscene. Abbandando said slyly, "It's been arranged then?"

When the Don answered, his voice was cold, without comfort. "You blaspheme. Resign yourself."

Abbandando fell back on the pillow. His eyes lost their wild gleam of hope. The nurse came back into the room and started shooing them out in a very matter-of-fact way. The Don got up but Abbandando put out his hand. "Godfather," he said, "stay here with me and help me meet death. Perhaps if He sees you near me He will be frightened and leave me in peace. Or perhaps you can say a word, pull a few strings, eh?" The dying man winked as if he were mocking the Don, now not really serious. "You're brothers in blood, after all." Then, as if fearing the Don would be offended, he clutched at his hand. "Stay with me, let me hold your hand. We'll outwit that bastard as we've outwitted others. Godfather, don't betray me."

The Don motioned the other people out of the room. They left. He took the withered claw of Genco Abbandando in his own two broad hands. Softly, reassuringly, he comforted his friend, as they waited for death together. As if the Don could truly snatch the life of Genco Abbandando back from that most foul and criminal traitor to man.

The wedding day of Connie Corleone ended well for her. Carlo Rizzi performed his duties as a bridegroom (исполнил свои обязанности /в качестве/ жениха) with skill and vigor (с мастерством и энергией ['vıg∂]), spurred on by the contents of the bride's gift purse (подстегиваемый содержимым кошелька-приданого невесты; spur – шпора) which totaled up (доходило до, насчитывало; to total [‘t∂ut∂l]) to over twenty thousand dollars. The bride, however, gave up her virginity with a great deal more willingness (отдала свою девственность с гораздо большей охотой) than she gave up her purse. For the latter, he had to blacken one of her eyes (за последний = чтобы получить последний, ему пришлось подбить ей глаз).

Lucy Mancini waited in her house for a call from Sonny Corleone, sure that he would ask her for a date (на свидание). Finally she called his house and when she heard a woman's voice answer the phone she hung up (повесила трубку; to hang up). She had no way of knowing (не могла знать) that nearly everyone at the wedding had remarked the absence of her and Sonny (заметили отсутствие) for that fatal half hour and the gossip was already spreading (слух уже распространялся) that Santino Corleone had found another victim (нашел еще одну жертву). That he had "done the job" on his own sister's maid of honor.

Amerigo Bonasera had a terrible nightmare (ужасный кошмар). In his dreams he saw Don Corleone, in peaked cap (в остроконечном шлеме; peak – пик, остроконечная вершина), overalls (спецовке) and heavy gloves (перчатках [glLv]), unloading bullet-riddled corpses (разгружает изрешеченные пулями трупы; riddle – решето) in front of his funeral parlor (перед своей «погребальной приемной», перед кабинетом) and shouting, "Remember, Amerigo, not a word to anyone, and bury them quickly." He groaned so loud (простонал, заохал) and long in his sleep that his wife shook him awake. "Eh, what a man you are," she grumbled. "To have a nightmare only after a wedding."

Kay Adams was escorted to her New York City hotel by Paulie Gatto and Clemenza. The car was large, luxurious and driven by Gatto. Clemenza sat in the back seat and Kay was given the front seat next to the driver. She found both men wildly exotic. Their speech was movie Brooklynese (на бруклинском жаргоне – как в кино) and they treated her with exaggerated courtliness (обращались с ней с преувеличенной вежливостью; to exaggerate [ıg’zædG∂reıt] – преувеличивать; courtliness [ko:tlinis] – вежливость, учтивость; court – двор). During the ride (во время поездки) she chatted casually with both men (она легко болтала, просто вела легкую, ни к чему не обязывающую беседу; casually [‘kæGju:∂lı] – случайно; ненароком; мимоходом, «при оказии») and was surprised when they spoke of Michael with unmistakable affection and respect (с несомненным теплом и уважением; mistake – ошибка). He had led her to believe that he was an alien (чужак ['eıljen]) in his father's world. Now Clemenza was assuring her in his wheezing gutteral voice (своим хрипящим горловым, гортанным голосом; to wheeze – дышать с присвистом; произносить с хрипом) that the "old man" thought Mike was the best of his sons, the one who would surely inherit the family business (унаследует).

"What business is that?" Kay asked in the most natural way (стараясь, чтобы ее голос звучал как можно естественнее).

Paulie Gatto gave her a quick glance (быстро взглянул: glance [glα:ns] – /быстрый короткий/ взгляд) as he turned the wheel. Behind her Clemenza said in a surprised voice. "Didn't Mike tell you? Mr. Corleone is the biggest importer of Italian olive oil in the States. Now that the war is over the business could get real rich (может стать по-настоящему прибыльным). He'll need a smart boy like Mike (ему нужен будет такой сметливый парень)."

At the hotel Clemenza insisted on coming to the desk (к стойке) with her. When she protested, he said simply, "The boss said to make sure you got home OK. I gotta do it (= I got to do it – я должен это сделать)."

After she received her room key (получила ключи от номера; key [ki:]) he walked her to the elevator and waited until she got in. She waved to him, smiling, and was surprised at his genuine smile of pleasure in return (была удивлена его ответной улыбкой, в которой светилось неподдельное удовольствие; genuine [‘dGenjuın] – истинный, подлинный). It was just as well she did not see him go back to the hotel clerk and ask, "What name she registered under?"

The hotel clerk looked at Clemenza coldly. Clemenza rolled the little green spitball (комочек /скомканную купюру/; spitball – комочек бумаги /для плевания через трубку/; spit – плевок) he was holding in his hand across to the clerk, who picked it up (взял, подхватил) and immediately said, "Mr. and Mrs. Michael Corleone."

Back in the car, Paulie Gatto said, "Nice dame."

Clemenza grunted. "Mike is doing the job on her." Unless, he thought, they were really married (если только они не женаты на самом деле). "Pick me up early in the morning (заезжай за мной)," he told Paulie Gatto. "Hagen got some deal for us that gotta be done right away (сразу, безотлагательно)."

The wedding day of Connie Corleone ended well for her. Carlo Rizzi performed his duties as a bridegroom with skill and vigor, spurred on by the contents of the bride's gift purse which totaled up to over twenty thousand dollars. The bride, however, gave up her virginity with a great deal more willingness than she gave up her purse. For the latter, he had to blacken one of her eyes.

Lucy Mancini waited in her house for a call from Sonny Corleone, sure that he would ask her for a date. Finally she called his house and when she heard a woman's voice answer the phone she hung up. She had no way of knowing that nearly everyone at the wedding had remarked the absence of her and Sonny for that fatal half hour and the gossip was already spreading that Santino Corleone had found another victim. That he had "done the job" on his own sister's maid of honor.

Amerigo Bonasera had a terrible nightmare. In his dreams he saw Don Corleone, in peaked cap, overalls and heavy gloves, unloading bullet-riddled corpses in front of his funeral parlor and shouting, "Remember, Amerigo, not a word to anyone, and bury them quickly." He groaned so loud and long in his sleep that his wife shook him awake. "Eh, what a man you are," she grumbled. "To have a nightmare only after a wedding."

Kay Adams was escorted to her New York City hotel by Paulie Gatto and Clemenza. The car was large, luxurious and driven by Gatto. Clemenza sat in the back seat and Kay was given the front seat next to the driver. She found both men wildly exotic. Their speech was movie Brooklynese and they treated her with exaggerated courtliness. During the ride she chatted casually with both men and was surprised when they spoke of Michael with unmistakable affection and respect. He had led her to believe that he was an alien in his father's world. Now Clemenza was assuring her in his wheezing gutteral voice that the "old man" thought Mike was the best of his sons, the one who would surely inherit the family business.

"What business is that?" Kay asked in the most natural way.

Paulie Gatto gave her a quick glance as he turned the wheel. Behind her Clemenza said in a surprised voice. "Didn't Mike tell you? Mr. Corleone is the biggest importer of Italian olive oil in the States. Now that the war is over the business could get real rich. He'll need a smart boy like Mike."

At the hotel Clemenza insisted on coming to the desk with her. When she protested, he said simply, "The boss said to make sure you got home OK. I gotta do it."

After she received her room key he walked her to the elevator and waited until she got in. She waved to him, smiling, and was surprised at his genuine smile of pleasure in return. It was just as well she did not see him go back to the hotel clerk and ask, "What name she registered under?"

The hotel clerk looked at Clemenza coldly. Clemenza rolled the little green spitball he was holding in his hand across to the clerk, who picked it up and immediately said, "Mr. and Mrs. Michael Corleone."

Back in the car, Paulie Gatto said, "Nice dame."

Clemenza grunted. "Mike is doing the job on her." Unless, he thought, they were really married. "Pick me up early in the morning," he told Paulie Gatto. "Hagen got some deal for us that gotta be done right away."

It was late Sunday night before Tom Hagen could kiss his wife goodbye and drive out to the airport. With his special number one priority (с удостоверением, дающим ему право внеочередной, первоочередной посадки /на самолет/; priority [praı’orıtı] – приоритет; преимущество; очередность) (a grateful gift («благодарный дар») from a Pentagon staff general officer (офицера ген. штаба; staff [sta:f] – штат /служащих/; кадры)) he had no trouble getting on a plane to Los Angeles (не было проблем сесть на самолет).

It had been a busy but satisfying day (удачный: «удовлетворяющий» день; to satisfy [‘sætısfaı] – удовлетворять) for Tom Hagen. Genco Abbandando had died at three in the morning and when Don Corleone returned from the hospital, he had informed Hagen that he was now officially the new Consigliori to the family. This meant that Hagen was sure to become a very rich man, to say nothing of power (не говоря уж о власти).

The Don had broken a long-standing tradition (нарушил давнюю традицию). The Consigliori was always a full-blooded Sicilian («полнокровный» = чистокровный сицилиец), and the fact that Hagen had been brought up as a member of the Don's family (был выращен, воспитан) made no difference to that tradition. It was a question of blood. Only a Sicilian born to the ways of omerta (который с молоком матери впитывал в себя круговую поруку и обычай кровной мести /итал./), the law of silence (закон молчания), could be trusted in the key post of Consigliori.

Between the head of the family, Don Corleone, who dictated policy (определял политику, курс = стратегию), and the operating level of men (и исполнительским уровнем [levl]) who actually carried out the orders of the Don (которые фактически, в на самом деле исполняли приказы; actually [‘ækt∫u∂lı]), there were three layers (слоя, пласта, прокладки), or buffers. In that way nothing could be traced to the top (таким образом ничто нельзя было проследить до верхушки /до руководства/; trace – след, отпечаток; to trace – проследить, выследить). Unless the Consigliori turned traitor (кроме того случая, если бы консильори оказался предателем). That Sunday morning Don Corleone gave explicit instructions (подробные, ясные [ıks'plısıt]) on what should be done to the two young men (что должно быть сделано) who had beaten the daughter of Amerigo Bonasera. But he had given those orders in private to Tom Hagen. Later in the day Hagen had, also in private without witnesses (без свидетелей), instructed Clemenza. In turn Clemenza had told Paulie Gatto to execute the commission (выполнить поручение). Paulie Gatto would now muster the necessary manpower (соберет необходимый личный состав, подберет исполнителей) and execute the orders. Paulie Gatto and his men would not know why this particular task was being carried out (почему выполняется эта конкретная, частная задача = именно эта задача; particular [p∂’tıkjul∂] – особый, особенный; отдельный, одиночный; task [tα:sk] – урочная работа, задача) or who had ordered it originally (первоначально). Each link of the chain would have to turn traitor (каждое звено цепи должно было бы оказаться предателем) for the Don to be involved (быть замешанным) and though it had never yet happened, there was always the possibility (возможность этого сохранялась). The cure for that possibility also was known (средство против этого: «лечение» было также известно). Only one link in the chain had to disappear (должно было исчезнуть).

The Consigliori was also what his name implied (что и заключало в себе, предполагало само название: to imply [ım’plaı]). He was the counselor to the Don (советником [‘kaunsl∂]), his right-hand man, his auxiliary brain («вспомогательным мозгом» [o:g'zılj∂rı]). He was also his closest companion and his closest friend. On important trips he would drive the Don's car, at conferences he would go out and get the Don refreshments (приносить закуски, освежающие напитки), coffee and sandwiches, fresh cigars. He would know everything the Don knew or nearly everything, all the cells of power (все клеточки = сегменты власти). He was the one man in the world who could bring the Don crashing down to destruction (кто мог бы с треском провалить Дона; to crush – с грохотом разрушать, разбивать). But no Consigliori had ever betrayed a Don (ни один консильори ни разу не изменил Дону), not in the memory of any of the powerful Sicilian families who had established themselves in America (обосновались; to establish [ıs’tæblı∫] – укреплять, делать стойким; основывать, учреждать). There was no future in it (в этом не было будущего = не было никакого смысла). And every Consigliori knew that if he kept the faith (если останется верен; faith [feıθ] – вера; верность), he would become rich, wield power (добьется власти; to wield – уметь обращаться; иметь в своем распоряжении, владеть) and win respect. If misfortune came, his wife and children would be sheltered and cared for (их приютят и о них позаботятся; shelter – приют, кров, убежище) as if he were alive or free (как если бы он был жив или свободен). If he kept the faith.

In some matters the Consigliori had to act for his Don in a more open way and yet not involve his principal (и все же не втягивать, не вмешивать своего начальника [‘prıns∂p∂l]). Hagen was flying to Califomia on just such a matter (как раз по такому делу). He realized that his career as Consigliori would be seriously affected by the success or failure of this mission (что на его карьеру серьезно повлияет, чем окончится его миссия: успехом или провалом, неудачей; to affect [∂’fekt] – подвергать воздействию, затрагивать; failure ['feılj∂] – неспособность, несостоятельность; банкротство; неудача; to fail – недоставать; потерпеть неудачу). By family business standards whether Johnny Fontane got his coveted part in the war movie (получил ли желанную роль: to covet [‘kLvıt] – жаждать, домогаться, сильно желать), or did not, was a minor matter (мелочь, нечто несущественное; minor [‘maın∂] – незначительный). Far more important was the meeting (гораздо важнее была встреча) Hagen had set up (назначил, спланировал) with Virgil Sollozzo the following Friday. But Hagen knew that to the Don, both were of equal importance (оба дела были одинаковой важности; equal [‘i:kw∂l] – равный, одинаковый, идентичный), which settled the matter for any good Consigliori (что решало вопрос = что и было решающим для каждого хорошего консильори).

It was late Sunday night before Tom Hagen could kiss his wife goodbye and drive out to the airport. With his special number one priority (a grateful gift from a Pentagon staff general officer) he had no trouble getting on a plane to Los Angeles.

It had been a busy but satisfying day for Tom Hagen. Genco Abbandando had died at three in the morning and when Don Corleone returned from the hospital, he had informed Hagen that he was now officially the new Consigliori to the family. This meant that Hagen was sure to become a very rich man, to say nothing of power.

The Don had broken a long-standing tradition. The Consigliori was always a full-blooded Sicilian, and the fact that Hagen had been brought up as a member of the Don's family made no difference to that tradition. It was a question of blood. Only a Sicilian born to the ways of omerta, the law of silence, could be trusted in the key post of Consigliori.

Between the head of the family, Don Corleone, who dictated policy, and the operating level of men who actually carried out the orders of the Don, there were three layers, or buffers. In that way nothing could be traced to the top. Unless the Consigliori turned traitor. That Sunday morning Don Corleone gave explicit instructions on what should be done to the two young men who had beaten the daughter of Amerigo Bonasera. But he had given those orders in private to Tom Hagen. Later in the day Hagen had, also in private without witnesses, instructed Clemenza. In turn Clemenza had told Paulie Gatto to execute the commission. Paulie Gatto would now muster the necessary manpower and execute the orders. Paulie Gatto and his men would not know why this particular task was being carried out or who had ordered it originally. Each link of the chain would have to turn traitor for the Don to be involved and though it had never yet happened, there was always the possibility. The cure for that possibility also was known. Only one link in the chain had to disappear.

The Consigliori was also what his name implied. He was the counselor to the Don, his right-hand man, his auxiliary brain. He was also his closest companion and his closest friend. On important trips he would drive the Don's car, at conferences he would go out and get the Don refreshments, coffee and sandwiches, fresh cigars. He would know everything the Don knew or nearly everything, all the cells of power. He was the one man in the world who could bring the Don crashing down to destruction. But no Consigliori had ever betrayed a Don, not in the memory of any of the powerful Sicilian families who had established themselves in America. There was no future in it. And every Consigliori knew that if he kept the faith, he would become rich, wield power and win respect. If misfortune came, his wife and children would be sheltered and cared for as if he were alive or free. If he kept the faith.

In some matters the Consigliori had to act for his Don in a more open way and yet not involve his principal. Hagen was flying to Califomia on just such a matter. He realized that his career as Consigliori would be seriously affected by the success or failure of this mission. By family business standards whether Johnny Fontane got his coveted part in the war movie, or did not, was a minor matter. Far more important was the meeting Hagen had set up with Virgil Sollozzo the following Friday. But Hagen knew that to the Don, both were of equal importance, which settled the matter for any good Consigliori.

The piston plane (самолет с поршневым двигателем; piston [‘pıst∂n] – поршень) shook Tom Hagen's already nervous insides («и без того уже нервные внутренности») and he ordered a martini from the hostess to quiet them (заказал у стюардессы мартини, чтобы их успокоить; hostess ['h∂ustıs] – хозяйка; стюардесса; официантка). Both the Don and Johnny had briefed him on the character of the movie producer, Jack Woltz (вкратце рассказали ему, инструктировали его по поводу характера кинопродюсера). From everything that Johnny said, Hagen knew he would never be able to persuade Woltz (никогда, ни за что не сможет убедить [p∂’sweıd]). But he also had no doubt whatsoever (вовсе никакого сомнения) that the Don would keep his promise to Johnny. His own role was that of negotiator and contact (его ролью была роль посредника).

Lying back in his seat, Hagen went over all the information given to him that day. Jack Woltz was one of the three most important movie producers in Hollywood, owner of his own studio with dozens of stars under contract (с дюжинами звезд «под контрактом»). He was on the President of the United States' Advisory Council for War Information (он был членом Президентского консультативного совета по вопросам военной информации; аdvisory [∂’dvaız∂rı] – совещательный), Cinematic Division (Отдел киноискусства), which meant simply (что просто означало) that he helped make propaganda movies. He had had dinner at the White House. He had entertained J. Edgar Hoover in his Hollywood home (принимал, угощал). But none of this was as impressive as it sounded (но ничто из этого не было таким впечатляющим, как казалось: «звучало»). They were all official relationships (все это были официальные связи). Woltz didn't have any personal political power, mainly (в основном) because he was an extreme reactionary (крайне реакционен, крайним реакционером; extreme [ıkstri:m]), partly (отчасти) because he was a megalomaniac (страдал манией величия) who loved to wield power wildly (который любил полновластно, самодурно: «дико» распоряжаться своей властью; to wield – уметь обращаться; иметь в своем распоряжении, владеть) without regard to the fact (не обращая внимания на то) that by so doing (что, оттого что он так делал: «так делая») legions of enemies sprang up out of the ground (легионы врагов вырастали из земли /как грибы/).

Hagen sighed. There would be no way to "handle" Jack Woltz (справиться, управиться /путем переговоров/). He opened his briefcase (портфель) and tried to get some paper work done (попытался сделать кое-какую бумажную работу), but he was too tired. He ordered another martini and reflected on his life (стал размышлять). He had no regrets (сожалений), indeed he felt that he had been extremely lucky. Whatever the reason (какая бы на то ни была причина = как бы то ни было), the course he had chosen ten years ago had proved to be right for him (курс, путь, образ действия оказался верен, подходящ для него). He was successful, he was as happy as any grown man could reasonably expect (наскольку зрелый мужчина может «разумно ожидать»), and he found life interesting.

The piston plane shook Tom Hagen's already nervous insides and he ordered a martini from the hostess to quiet them. Both the Don and Johnny had briefed him on the character of the movie producer, Jack Woltz. From everything that Johnny said, Hagen knew he would never be able to persuade Woltz. But he also had no doubt whatsoever that the Don would keep his promise to Johnny. His own role was that of negotiator and contact.

Lying back in his seat, Hagen went over all the information given to him that day. Jack Woltz was one of the three most important movie producers in Hollywood, owner of his own studio with dozens of stars under contract. He was on the President of the United States' Advisory Council for War Information, Cinematic Division, which meant simply that he helped make propaganda movies. He had had dinner at the White House. He had entertained J. Edgar Hoover in his Hollywood home. But none of this was as impressive as it sounded. They were all official relationships. Woltz didn't have any personal political power, mainly because he was an extreme reactionary, partly because he was a megalomaniac who loved to wield power wildly without regard to the fact that by so doing legions of enemies sprang up out of the ground.

Hagen sighed. There would be no way to "handle" Jack Woltz. He opened his briefcase and tried to get some paper work done, but he was too tired. He ordered another martini and reflected on his life. He had no regrets, indeed he felt that he had been extremely lucky. Whatever the reason, the course he had chosen ten years ago had proved to be right for him. He was successful, he was as happy as any grown man could reasonably expect, and he found life interesting.

Tom Hagen was thirty-five years old, a tall crew-cut man (подстриженный ежиком), very slender (стройный, тонкий), very ordinary-looking (самой обыкновенной внешности). He was a lawyer (адвокатом) but did not do the actual detailed legal work for the Corleone family business (но не занимался собственно судебной практикой) though he had practiced law for three years after passing the bar exam (хотя и работал по профессии: «в юридической области» после сдачи экзамена на адвоката; bar – юридическая деятельность; адвокат).

At the age of eleven he had been a playmate of eleven-year-old Sonny Corleone (товарищ по играм). Hagen's mother had gone blind (ослепла) and then died during his eleventh year. Hagen's father, a heavy drinker, had become a hopeless drunkard (превратился в безнадежного пьяницу). A hard-working carpenter (трудяга-плотник), he had never done a dishonest thing in his life (ни разу не совершил ничего нечестного). But his drinking destroyed his family (но его пьянство разрушило его семью) and finally killed him. Tom Hagen was left an orphan (был оставлен сиротой) who wandered the streets and slept in hallways (в проходах, коридорах). His younger sister had been put in a foster home (была отдана в приют; to foster – воспитывать, растить), but in the 1920's the social agencies did not follow up cases of twelve-year-old boys (не занимались делами; to follow up – упорно, энергично преследовать; доводить до конца) who were so ungrateful as to run from their charity (которые были настолько неблагодарны, что сбежали от их милосердия, благотворительности [‘t∫ærıtı]). Hagen, too, had an eye infection. Neighbors whispered that he had caught (заразился: «подхватил»; to catch) or inherited it from his mother (или унаследовал), and so therefore it could be caught from him (поэтому это может быть подхвачено от него = от него можно заразиться). He was shunned (его избегали, обходили стороной, остерегались: «он был избегаем»; to shun). Sonny Corleone, a warmhearted and imperious (властный [ım'pı∂rı∂s]) eleven-year-old, had brought his friend home and demanded that he be taken in (потребовал, чтобы его приняли: «чтобы он был принят, впущен»; to demand [dimα:nd]). Tom Hagen was given a hot dish of spaghetti (ему дали порцию: «блюдо» горячих спагетти) with oily rich tomato sauce, the taste of which he had never forgotten, and then given a metal folding bed to sleep on (раскладушку; to fold – складывать).

In the most natural way, without a word being spoken or the matter discussed in any fashion (не обсуждая никак: «никаким манером» это дело), Don Corleone had permitted the boy to stay in his household (позволил остаться в своем семействе). Don Corleone himself took the boy to a special doctor and had his eye infection cured. He sent him to college and law school. In all this the Don acted not as a father but rather as a guardian (скорее как опекун [gα:dj∂n]). There was no show of affection (не было выражения любви, привязанности) but oddly enough (как ни странно: «довольно странно») the Don treated Hagen more courteously than his own sons (обращался вежливее), did not impose a parental will upon him (не навязывал ему родительской воли: «не накладывал на него родительскую волю»; parental [p∂’rentl]). It was the boy's decision (решение [dı’sıG∂n]) to go to law school after college. He had heard Don Corleone say once, "A lawyer with his briefcase can steal more (украсть) than a hundred men with guns (с пистолетами)." Meanwhile, much to the annoyance of their father (к вящей досаде их отца; annoyance [∂’noı∂ns] – досада, раздражение; to annoy [∂’noı] – досаждать, докучать), Sonny and Freddie insisted on going into the family business (настаивали на том, чтобы войти в семейный бизнес) after graduation from high school (после окончания старших классов). Only Michael had gone on to college, and he had enlisted in the Marines (записался = завербовался в морскую пехоту) the day after Pearl Harbor.

Tom Hagen was thirty-five years old, a tall crew-cut man, very slender, very ordinary-looking. He was a lawyer but did not do the actual detailed legal work for the Corleone family business though he had practiced law for three years after passing the bar exam.

At the age of eleven he had been a playmate of eleven-year-old Sonny Corleone. Hagen's mother had gone blind and then died during his eleventh year. Hagen's father, a heavy drinker, had become a hopeless drunkard. A hard-working carpenter, he had never done a dishonest thing in his life. But his drinking destroyed his family and finally killed him. Tom Hagen was left an orphan who wandered the streets and slept in hallways. His younger sister had been put in a foster home, but in the 1920's the social agencies did not follow up cases of twelve-year-old boys who were so ungrateful as to run from their charity. Hagen, too, had an eye infection. Neighbors whispered that he had caught or inherited it from his mother and so therefore it could be caught from him. He was shunned. Sonny Corleone, a warmhearted and imperious eleven-year-old, had brought his friend home and demanded that he be taken in. Tom Hagen was given a hot dish of spaghetti with oily rich tomato sauce, the taste of which he had never forgotten, and then given a metal folding bed to sleep on.

In the most natural way, without a word being spoken or the matter discussed in any fashion, Don Corleone had permitted the boy to stay in his household. Don Corleone himself took the boy to a special doctor and had his eye infection cured. He sent him to college and law school. In all this the Don acted not as a father but rather as a guardian. There was no show of affection but oddly enough the Don treated Hagen more courteously than his own sons, did not impose a parental will upon him. It was the boy's decision to go to law school after college. He had heard Don Corleone say once, "A lawyer with his briefcase can steal more than a hundred men with guns." Meanwhile, much to the annoyance of their father, Sonny and Freddie insisted on going into the family business after graduation from high school. Only Michael had gone on to college, and he had enlisted in the Marines the day after Pearl Harbor.

After he passed the bar exam, Hagen married to start his own family. The bride was a young Italian girl from New Jersey, rare at that time for being a college graduate (была редкостью в то время, будучи выпускницей колледжа). After the wedding, which was of course held in the home of Don Corleone (которая, конечно, состоялась: «была проведена» в доме Дона), the Don offered to support Hagen in any undertaking he desired (поддержать Хагена в любом предприятии, какое он пожелает; to support [s∂’po:t]), to send him law clients, furnish his office (оборудовать, обставить мебелью его офис), start him in real estate (помочь ему с недвижимостью; real estate – недвижимость).

Tom Hagen had bowed his head and said to the Don, "I would like to work for you."

The Don was surprised, yet pleased. "You know who I am?" he asked.

Hagen nodded. He hadn't really known the extent of the Don's power (размер его власти, насколько далеко простиралась его власть; extent [ıks’tent] – протяженность), not then (тогда еще нет). He did not really know in the ten years that followed until he was made the acting Consigliori after Genco Abbandando became ill. But he nodded and met the Don's eyes with his own. "I would work for you like your sons," Hagen said, meaning with complete loyalty, with complete acceptance of the Don's parental divinity (с полным принятием «родительской божественности Дона» = относясь к нему с благоговением, как к Богу). The Don, with that understanding which was even then building the legend of his greatness (с тем пониманием /сути дела/, которое уже тогда создавало легенду его величия), showed the young man the first mark (знак) of fatherly affection since he had come into his household. He took Hagen into his arms for a quick embrace (для быстрого = недолгого объятия) and afterward treated him more like a true son, though he would sometimes say, "Tom, never forget your parents," as if he were reminding himself as well as Hagen (как будто напоминая самому себе, также как и Хагену = а не только Хагену).

There was no chance that Hagen would forget (да и как бы он смог забыть). His mother had been near moronic (почти идиотка = полусумасшедшая; moronic [mo:’ronık] – идиотский) and slovenly (и неряшливой; sloven [slLvn] – неряха, неопрятный, грязнуля), so ridden by anemia (настолько измученная анемией; to ride – ехать верхом, скакать; подавлять, угнетать) she could not feel affection for her children or make a pretense of it (или даже притвориться /любящей матерью/). His father Hagen had hated. His mother's blindness before she died had terrified him (пугала его, приводила в ужас; terror – ужас, страх) and his own eye infection had been a stroke of doom («ударом проклятия»; to strike – бить). He had been sure he would go blind (был уверен, что ослепнет). When his father died, Tom Hagen's eleven-year-old mind had snapped in a curious way (его ум, разум странным образом защелкнулся, захлопнулся = в его уме что-то оборвалось, перевернулось). He had roamed the streets (бродил по улицам) like an animal waiting for death until the fateful day Sonny found him sleeping in the back of a hallway and brought him to his home. What had happened afterward was a miracle (то, что случилось потом, было чудом ['mır∂kl]). But for years Hagen had had nightmares (много, несколько лет ему снились кошмары), dreaming he had grown to manhood blind (видя во сне, что он вырос и стал взрослым мужчиной – слепым; manhood – возмужалось, зрелый возраст), tapping a white cane (постукивающий белой тростью), his blind children behind him tap-tapping with their little white canes as they begged in the streets (просящие милостыню, побирающиеся; to beg). Some mornings when he woke (просыпался; to wake) the face of Don Corleone was imprinted on his brain (отпечатывался в его мозгу) in that first conscious moment (в этот первый сознательный момент; conscious ['kon∫∂s]) and he would feel safe (и он чувствовал себя в безопасности).

But the Don had insisted that he put in three years of general law practice in addition to his duties for the family business (в добавок к своим обязанностям; to add – прибавлять). This experience had proved invaluable later on (этот опыт оказался в дальнейшем неоценимым = который трудно переоценить; valuable [‘vælju∂bl]), and also removed any doubts in Hagen's mind («убрал какие-либо сомнения» = заставил отбросить все сомнения; to remove – перемещать; убирать) about working for Don Corleone. He had then spent two years of training in the offices of a top firm of criminal lawyers in which the Don had some influence (в которой Дон имел некоторое влияние ['ınflu∂ns]). It was apparent to everyone (всем: «каждому» было очевидно) that he had a flair for this branch of the law (/хороший/ нюх, чутье для этой области: «ветки, ответвления» юриспруденции). He did well (преуспевал) and when he went into the full-time service of the family business, Don Corleone had not been able to reproach him once in the six years that followed (не мог: «не был способен» ни разу ни в чем упрекнуть).

When he had been made the acting Consigliori, the other powerful Sicilian families referred contemptuously (презрительно отзывались = стали называть; to refer [rıf∂:] – говорить, упоминать) to the Corleone family as the "Irish gang (ирландской бандой)." This had amused Hagen. It had also taught him (это заставило его понять) that he could never hope to succeed the Don as the head of the family business (что он не может надеяться стать когда-либо преемником Дона; to succeed [s∂k’si:d] – следовать за чем-либо, сменять; наследовать, быть преемником). But he was content. That had never been his goal (это никогда не было его целью, задачей), such an ambition would have been a "disrespect" to his benefactor (по отношению к его благодетелю [‘bænifækt∂]) and his benefactor's blood family.

After he passed the bar exam, Hagen married to start his own family. The bride was a young Italian girl from New Jersey, rare at that time for being a college graduate. After the wedding, which was of course held in the home of Don Corleone, the Don offered to support Hagen in any undertaking he desired, to send him law clients, furnish his office, start him in real estate.

Tom Hagen had bowed his head and said to the Don, "I would like to work for you."

The Don was surprised, yet pleased. "You know who I am?" he asked.

Hagen nodded. He hadn't really known the extent of the Don's power, not then. He did not really know in the ten years that followed until he was made the acting Consigliori after Genco Abbandando became ill. But he nodded and met the Don's eyes with his own. "I would work for you like your sons," Hagen said, meaning with complete loyalty, with complete acceptance of the Don's parental divinity. The Don, with that understanding which was even then building the legend of his greatness, showed the young man the first mark of fatherly affection since he had come into his household. He took Hagen into his arms for a quick embrace and afterward treated him more like a true son, though he would sometimes say, "Tom, never forget your parents," as if he were reminding himself as well as Hagen.

There was no chance that Hagen would forget. His mother had been near moronic and slovenly, so ridden by anemia she could not feel affection for her children or make a pretense of it. His father Hagen had hated. His mother's blindness before she died had terrified him and his own eye infection had been a stroke of doom. He had been sure he would go blind. When his father died, Tom Hagen's eleven-year-old mind had snapped in a curious way. He had roamed the streets like an animal waiting for death until the fateful day Sonny found him sleeping in the back of a hallway and brought him to his home. What had happened afterward was a miracle. But for years Hagen had had nightmares, dreaming he had grown to manhood blind, tapping a white cane, his blind children behind him tap-tapping with their little white canes as they begged in the streets. Some mornings when he woke the face of Don Corleone was imprinted on his brain in that first conscious moment and he would feel safe.

But the Don had insisted that he put in three years of general law practice in addition to his duties for the family business. This experience had proved invaluable later on, and also removed any doubts in Hagen's mind about working for Don Corleone. He had then spent two years of training in the offices of a top firm of criminal lawyers in which the Don had some influence. It was apparent to everyone that he had a flair for this branch of the law. He did well and when he went into the full-time service of the family business, Don Corleone had not been able to reproach him once in the six years that followed.

When he had been made the acting Consigliori, the other powerful Sicilian families referred contemptuously to the Corleone family as the "Irish gang." This had amused Hagen. It had also taught him that he could never hope to succeed the Don as the head of the family business. But he was content. That had never been his goal, such an ambition would have been a "disrespect" to his benefactor and his benefactor's blood family.

It was still dark (было все еще темно) when the plane landed in Los Angeles (приземлился). Hagen checked into his hotel (оформился в гостинице), showered and shaved (принял душ и побрился), and watched dawn (рассвет) come over the city. He ordered breakfast and newspapers to be sent up to his room (чтобы были присланы в номер) and relaxed until it was time for his ten A.M. appointment (пока не было пора отправляться на назначенную на десять утра встречу; to appoint [∂’poınt] – назначать) with Jack Woltz. The appointment had been surprisingly easy to make (удивительно = неожиданно легко было получить эту аудиенцию).

The day before (накануне), Hagen had called the most powerful man in the movie labor unions (в профсоюзах работников кино), a man named Billy Goff. Acting on instructions from Don Corleone, Hagen had told Goff to arrange an appointment (договориться о встрече; to arrange [∂’reındG] – приводить в порядок; устраивать) on the next day for Hagen to call on Jack Woltz, that he should hint to Woltz (намекнуть) that if Hagen was not made happy (если не будет удовлетворен: «сделан счастливым, довольным») by the results of the interview, there could be a labor strike at the movie studio (может быть забастовка). An hour later Hagen received a call from Goff. The appointment would be at ten A.M. Woltz had gotten the message about the possible labor strike (получил извещение о возможной забастовке) but hadn't seemed too impressed (но казался не слишком впечатленным), Goff said. He added, "If it really comes down to that (дойдет до этого), I gotta talk to the Don myself (= I got to talk – мне нужно будет поговорить)."

"If it comes to that he'll talk to you," Hagen said. By saying this he avoided making any promises (избежал делания каких-либо обещаний; to avoid [∂’voıd] – избегать, уклоняться; promise [‘promıs] – обещание). He was not surprised that Goff was so agreeable to the Don's wishes (такой согласный, податливый желаниям Дона; agreeable [∂’grı∂bl]; to agree – соглашаться). The family empire, technically, did not extend beyond the New York area (не простиралась за пределы Нью-Йоркской области; area [‘e∂rı∂]) but Don Corleone had first become strong by helping labor leaders (“впервые стал /по-настоящему/ сильным» = набрал истинную силу, /лишь/ помогая руководителям профсоюзов). Many of them still owed him debts of friendship (все еще были должны ему, обязаны ему долгом дружбы; debt [det] – долг).

But the ten A.M. appointment was a bad sign (плохой знак = дурная примета). It meant that he would be first on the appointment list, that he would not be invited to lunch (что он не будет приглашен на обед). It meant that Woltz held him in small worth (не придавал ему большого значения: «держал его в малой ценности»). Goff had not been threatening enough (не достаточно сильно угрожал: «был недостаточно угрожающ»; to threaten – [θretn]), probably (возможно) because Woltz had him on his graft payroll (в списке лиц, получающих взятки; graft [grα:ft] – взятка, подкуп, незаконные доходы; payroll – сумма, выплаченная служащим /за определенный период/). And sometimes the Don's success in keeping himself out of the limelight (то, что Дону так хорошо удавалось оставаться в тени; limelight – свет рампы) worked to the disadvantage of the family business (действовало во вред; advantage [æd’vα:ntıdG] – преимущество), in that his name did not mean anything to outside circles (тем, что его имя ничего не значило для «внешних кругов» = для непосвященных).

His analysis proved correct (его анализ оказался верным; analysis [∂’næl∂sıs]; to prove [pru:v] – доказывать, подтверждать). Woltz kept him waiting for a half hour past the appointed time (заставил его ждать более получаса /после назначенного времени/). Hagen didn't mind (не обиделся, ему было все равно). The reception room was very plush (роскошным, шикарным: «плюшевым»), very comfortable, and on a plum-colored couch (на темно-фиолетовой кушетке; plum – слива) opposite him (напротив него ['op∂zıt]) sat the most beautiful child Hagen had ever seen. She was no more than eleven or twelve, dressed in a very expensive but simple way as a grown woman. She had incredibly golden hair (невероятно золотистые волосы), huge deep sea-blue eyes and a fresh raspberry-red mouth (малинового цвета рот = губы; raspberry [‘rα:zb∂rı] – малина). She was guarded by a woman (сопровождалась: «охранялась»; to guard [gα:d]) obviously her mother (очевидно, ее матерью), who tried to stare Hagen down (которая старалась, пристально глядя на Хагена, заставить его потупиться; to stare down – смутить взглядом) with a cold arrogance (с холодным высокомерием ['ær∂g∂ns]; arrogant ['ær∂ug∂nt] – заносчивый, высокомерный) that made him want to punch her in the face (что вызывало у него желание двинуть ей кулаком в лицо; to punch – бить кулаком). The angel child and the dragon mother, Hagen thought, returning the mother's cold stare.

Finally an exquisitely dressed (изысканно одетая) but stout (полная) middle-aged woman came to lead him through a string of offices (через ряд офисов; string – веревка; последовательность) to the office-apartment of the movie producer. Hagen was impressed by the beauty of the offices and the people working in them. He smiled. They were all shrewdies (ловкачи, проныры: shrewdie; shrewd [∫ru:d] – пронизывающий, сильный /напр. о ветре/; сообразительный, быстро схватывающий), trying to get their foot in the movie door by taking office jobs, and most of them would work in these offices for the rest of their lives (всю оставшуюся жизнь) or until they accepted defeat (пока не признают: «примут» поражение; defeat [dı’fi:t]) and returned to their home towns.

It was still dark when the plane landed in Los Angeles. Hagen checked into his hotel, showered and shaved, and watched dawn come over the city. He ordered breakfast and newspapers to be sent up to his room and relaxed until it was time for his ten A.M. appointment with Jack Woltz. The appointment had been surprisingly easy to make.

The day before, Hagen had called the most powerful man in the movie labor unions, a man named Billy Goff. Acting on instructions from Don Corleone, Hagen had told Goff to arrange an appointment on the next day for Hagen to call on Jack Woltz, that he should hint to Woltz that if Hagen was not made happy by the results of the interview, there could be a labor strike at the movie studio. An hour later Hagen received a call from Goff. The appointment would be at ten A.M. Woltz had gotten the message about the possible labor strike but hadn't seemed too impressed, Goff said. He added, "If it really comes down to that, I gotta talk to the Don myself."

"If it comes to that he'll talk to you," Hagen said. By saying this he avoided making any promises. He was not surprised that Goff was so agreeable to the Don's wishes. The family empire, technically, did not extend beyond the New York area but Don Corleone had first become strong by helping labor leaders. Many of them still owed him debts of friendship.

But the ten A.M. appointment was a bad sign. It meant that he would be first on the appointment list, that he would not be invited to lunch. It meant that Woltz held him in small worth. Goff had not been threatening enough, probably because Woltz had him on his graft payroll. And sometimes the Don's success in keeping himself out of the limelight worked to the disadvantage of the family business, in that his name did not mean anything to outside circles.

His analysis proved correct. Woltz kept him waiting for a half hour past the appointed time. Hagen didn't mind. The reception room was very plush, very comfortable, and on a plum-colored couch opposite him sat the most beautiful child Hagen had ever seen. She was no more than eleven or twelve, dressed in a very expensive but simple way as a grown woman. She had incredibly golden hair, huge deep sea-blue eyes and a fresh raspberry-red mouth. She was guarded by a woman obviously her mother, who tried to stare Hagen down with a cold arrogance that made him want to punch her in the face. The angel child and the dragon mother, Hagen thought, returning the mother's cold stare.

Finally an exquisitely dressed but stout middle-aged woman came to lead him through a string of offices to the office-apartment of the movie producer. Hagen was impressed by the beauty of the offices and the people working in them. He smiled. They were all shrewdies, trying to get their foot in the movie door by taking office jobs, and most of them would work in these offices for the rest of their lives or until they accepted defeat and returned to their home towns.

Jack Woltz was a tall, powerfully built man (крепко: «мощно» скроенный, сложенный) with a heavy paunch (с «тяжелым» брюхом [po:nt∫]) almost concealed (почти скрытым) by his perfectly tailored suit (его превосходно сшитым костюмом [sju:t]). Hagen knew his history. At ten years of age Woltz had hustled empty beer kegs (катал бочки из-под пива; keg – бочонок /до 10 галлонов/; hustle [hLsl] – толкать, пихать, гнать вперед) and pushcarts (тележки: to push – толкать + cart – телега, повозка) on the East Side. At twenty he helped his father sweat garment workers (выжимать соки: «пот» из рабочих швейной промышленности; garment – одежда, предмет одежды). At thirty he had left New York and moved West, invested in the nickelodeon (вложил деньги в один из первых кинотеатров; nickelodeon – так назывались первые кинотеатры, в которых фильмы были лишь частью общего шоу и входная цена была 1 nickel = 5 cents) and pioneered motion pictures (и запустил кинопромышленность, стал одним из ее основателей). At forty-eight he had been the most powerful movie magnate in Hollywood, still rough-spoken (грубый в обращении), rapaciously amorous (алчный в любви; rapacious [r∂’peı∫∂s] – жадный, алчный; amorous [‘æm∂r∂s] – влюбчивый), a raging wolf (свирепствующий волк) ravaging helpless flocks of young starlets (пожирающий беззащитные стада молоденьких звездочек; to ravage ['rævıdG] – разорять, опустошать; грабить). At fifty he transformed himself (переменился). He took speech lessons (брал уроки дикции), learned how to dress from an English valet (у лакея, камердинера ['vælıt]) and how to behave socially (как вести себя в обществе: «общественно») from an English butler (у дворецкого, старшего лакея). When his first wife died he married a world-famous (на всемирно знаменитой) and beautiful actress who didn't like acting (которой не нравилось играть, сниматься). Now at the age of sixty he collected old master paintings (шедевры живописи), was a member of the President's Advisory Committee, and had set up a multimillion-dollar foundation (фонд) in his name to promote art in motion pictures (чтобы содействовать искусству в кино; to promote – выдвигать, продвигать; способствовать). His daughter had married an English lord, his son an Italian princess.

His latest passion (его последнее увлечение: «страсть»), as reported dutifully by every movie columnist in America (как старательно было сообщено каждым кинообозревателем; column [‘kol∂m] – колонна; колонка /обзор постоянного корреспондента/), was his own racing stables (собственные конюшни для беговых лошадей) on which he had spent ten million dollars in the past year. He had made headlines («сделал заголовки» = это было во всех газетных заголовках) by purchasing (тем, что приобрел, приобретя; to purchase [‘p∂:t∫∂s]) the famed English racing horse Khartoum for the incredible price of six hundred thousand dollars and then announcing (а затем заявил, заявив) that the undefeated racer (не знающий поражения скакун; defeat – поражение) would be retired (больше не будет принимать участия в скачках; to retire – уходить, удаляться; уйти на покой, на пенсию) and put to stud (и станет использоваться в качестве жеребца) exclusively for the Woltz stables.

He received Hagen courteously, his beautifully, evenly tanned (ровно загорелое), meticulously barbered face (тщательно выбритое лицо; meticulous [mı’tıkjul∂s] – мелочный, дотошный, тщательный) contorted with a grimace (исказилось гримасой) meant to be a smile (которая должна была означать улыбку). Despite all the money spent, despite the ministrations (несмотря на «оказания» помощи, услуг = несмотря на все старания) of the most knowledgeable technicians (наиболее опытных специалистов), his age showed (его возраст был виден, обнаруживал себя); the flesh of his face looked as if it had been seamed together (словно было сшито; seam – шов; to seam – соединять швом, сшивать). But there was an enormous vitality in his movements (огромная жизненная сила, энергия в его движениях) and he had what Don Corleone had, the air of a man who commanded absolutely the world in which he lived.

Jack Woltz was a tall, powerfully built man with a heavy paunch almost concealed by his perfectly tailored suit. Hagen knew his history. At ten years of age Woltz had hustled empty beer kegs and pushcarts on the East Side. At twenty he helped his father sweat garment workers. At thirty he had left New York and moved West, invested in the nickelodeon and pioneered motion pictures. At forty-eight he had been the most powerful movie magnate in Hollywood, still rough-spoken, rapaciously amorous, a raging wolf ravaging helpless flocks of young starlets. At fifty he transformed himself. He took speech lessons, learned how to dress from an English valet and how to behave socially from an English butler. When his first wife died he married a world-famous and beautiful actress who didn't like acting. Now at the age of sixty he collected old master paintings, was a member of the President's Advisory Committee, and had set up a multimillion-dollar foundation in his name to promote art in motion pictures. His daughter had married an English lord, his son an Italian princess.

His latest passion, as reported dutifully by every movie columnist in America, was his own racing stables on which he had spent ten million dollars in the past year. He had made headlines by purchasing the famed English racing horse Khartoum for the incredible price of six hundred thousand dollars and then announcing that the undefeated racer would be retired and put to stud exclusively for the Woltz stables.

He received Hagen courteously, his beautifully, evenly tanned, meticulously barbered face contorted with a grimace meant to be a smile. Despite all the money spent, despite the ministrations of the most knowledgeable technicians, his age showed; the flesh of his face looked as if it had been seamed together. But there was an enormous vitality in his movements and he had what Don Corleone had, the air of a man who commanded absolutely the world in which he lived.

Hagen came directly to the point (прямо перешел к сути дела, начал с самой сути). That he was an emissary (эмиссар, посланец ['emis∂rı]) from a friend of Johnny Fontane. That this friend was a very powerful man who would pledge his gratitude (готов поклясться, заверить в своей благодарности = гарантирует свою благодарность; to pledge – отдавать в залог; давать обет; связывать обещанием, клятвой) and undying friendship (и вечную: «неумирающую» дружбу) to Mr. Woltz if Mr. Woltz would grant a small favor (сделает небольшую любезность, удовлетворит просьбу; to grant – дарить, жаловать; предоставлять, удовлетворять). The small favor would be the casting of Johnny Fontane (предоставление роли; to cast – распределять роли) in the new war movie the studio planned to start next week.

The seamed face was impassive (бесстрастное), polite (вежливое). "What favors can your friend do me?" Woltz asked. There was just a trace of condescension in his voice (легкий след = оттенок снисходительности).

Hagen ignored the condescension. He explained. "You've got some labor trouble coming up (у вас назревает неприятность с профсоюзами). My friend can absolutely guarantee to make that trouble disappear. You have a top male star (у вас есть «главная мужская звезда») who makes a lot of money for your studio but he just graduated from marijuana to heroin (перешел; to graduate [‘grædju∂t] – прогрессировать, продвигаться вперед; переходить в другое состояние). My friend will guarantee that your male star won't be able to get any more heroin (не сможет больше достать). And if some other little things come up over the years (и если какие-либо другие мелочи возникнут с течением времени) a phone call to me can solve your problems (разрешить)."

Jack Woltz listened to this as if he were hearing the boasting of a child (словно он слушал похвальбу ребенка). Then he said harshly (резко, грубо), his voice deliberately all East Side (специально, нарочно с /крутым/ истсайдским акцентом /East Side – the eastern section of Manhattan, in New York City, lying to the east of Fifth Avenue/), "You trying to put muscle on me (пытаетесь = вздумали надавить на меня)?"

Hagen said coolly, "Absolutely not. I've come to ask a service for a friend. I've tried to explain that you won't lose anything by it (попытался объяснить, что вы ничего не потеряете на этом)."

Almost as if he willed it («почти как если бы он хотел этого» = с едва ли не напускным /гневом/), Woltz made his face a mask of anger. The mouth curled (губы скривились), his heavy brows (брови), dyed black (подкрашенные в черный цвет; to dye – красить, окрашивать), contracted (сдвинулись: «сократились») to form a thick line over his glinting eyes (чтобы образовать, образовав толстую /непрерывную/ линию над его засверкавшими глазами). He leaned over the desk toward Hagen. "All right, you smooth son of a bitch (гладенький, скользкий сукин сын; smooth [smu:ð] – гладкий, ровный; скользкий; вежливый, приятный), let me lay it on the line for you and your boss (позволь мне кое-что четко объяснить: «выложить на линию»), whoever he is. Johnny Fontane never gets that movie. I don't care how many guinea Mafia goombahs come out of the woodwork (сколько итальянских дружков появляются, возникают; woodwork – деревянные изделия; to come out of the woodwork – появляться, возникать; guinea – /сленг, презрит./ итальяшка; goombah – дружок, приятель /сленг, из итальянского/)." He leaned back. "A word of advice to you, my friend. J. Edgar Hoover, I assume (полагаю) you've heard of him" – Woltz smiled sardonically – "is a personal friend of mine. If I let him know I'm being pressured (что на меня оказывают давление, что меня шантажируют), you guys will never know what hit you (вам парням крышка: «никогда так и не узнаете, даже и не узнаете, что вас стукнуло»)."

Hagen came directly to the point. That he was an emissary from a friend of Johnny Fontane. That this friend was a very powerful man who would pledge his gratitude and undying friendship to Mr. Woltz if Mr. Woltz would grant a small favor. The small favor would be the casting of Johnny Fontane in the new war movie the studio planned to start next week.

The seamed face was impassive, polite. "What favors can your friend do me?" Woltz asked. There was just a trace of condescension in his voice.

Hagen ignored the condescension. He explained. "You've got some labor trouble coming up. My friend can absolutely guarantee to make that trouble disappear. You have a top male star who makes a lot of money for your studio but he just graduated from marijuana to heroin. My friend will guarantee that your male star won't be able to get any more heroin. And if some other little things come up over the years a phone call to me can solve your problems."

Jack Woltz listened to this as if he were hearing the boasting of a child. Then he said harshly, his voice deliberately all East Side, "You trying to put muscle on me?"

Hagen said coolly, "Absolutely not. I've come to ask a service for a friend. I've tried to explain that you won't lose anything by it."

Almost as if he willed it, Woltz made his face a mask of anger. The mouth curled, his heavy brows, dyed black, contracted to form a thick line over his glinting eyes. He leaned over the desk toward Hagen. "All right, you smooth son of a bitch, let me lay it on the line for you and your boss, whoever he is. Johnny Fontane never gets that movie. I don't care how many guinea Mafia goombahs come out of the woodwork." He leaned back. "A word of advice to you, my friend. J. Edgar Hoover, I assume you've heard of him" – Woltz smiled sardonically – "is a personal friend of mine. If I let him know I'm being pressured, you guys will never know what hit you."

Hagen listened patiently (терпеливо). He had expected better from a man of Woltz's stature (он ожидал большего: «лучшего» от человека такого формата, занимающего столь высокое положение; stature [‘stæt∫∂] – рост; высота). Was it possible that a man who acted this stupidly (настолько глупо) could rise to the head of a company worth hundreds of millions? That was something to think about (здесь было о чем подумать) since the Don was looking for new things to put money into (так как Дон искал новые возможности вложения денег), and if the top brains of this industry were so dumb (и если главные мозги в этой индустрии настолько тупы [dLm]), movies might be the thing (кино может оказаться подходящим делом). The abuse itself bothered him not at all (оскорбление само по себе его вовсе не беспокоило, не раздражало; abuse [∂’bju:s] – оскорбление, брань; to bother [‘boð∂] – беспокоить, докучать). Hagen had learned the art of negotiation from the Don himself (выучился искусству вести переговоры у самого Дона). "Never get angry (никогда не сердись: «не становись сердитым»)," the Don had instructed. "Never make a threat (не угрожай). Reason with people (рассуждай с людьми, приводи доводы)." The word "reason" sounded so much better in Italian, rajunah, to rejoin (отвечать на обвинение истца, возражать; соединять). The art of this was to ignore all insults, all threats; to turn the other cheek (подставлять: «поворачивать» другую щеку). Hagen had seen the Don sit at a negotiating table for eight hours, swallowing insults (проглатывая, проглатывающим оскорбления), trying to persuade (старающимся убедить [p∂s’weıd]) a notorious (известного) and megalomaniac (и крайне заносчивого: «страдающего манией величия») strong-arm man (крутого парня; strong-arm – применяющий силу /напр. о преступнике/) to mend his ways (исправиться; to mend – чинить, ремонтировать, штопать). At the end of the eight hours Don Corleone had thrown up his hands (всплеснул руками) in a helpless gesture and said to the other men at the table, "But no one can reason with this fellow," and had stalked out (и величаво, гордо вышел; to stalk – шествовать) of the meeting room. The strong-arm man had turned white with fear (побелел, побледнел от страха). Emissaries were sent to bring the Don back into the room. An agreement was reached (соглашение было достигнуто) but two months later the strong-arm was shot to death in his favorite barbershop (был застрелен в своей излюбленной парикмахерской).

So Hagen started again, speaking in the most ordinary voice (самым обычным = спокойным голосом). "Look at my card," he said. "I'm a lawyer. Would I stick my neck out (разве я стал бы высовывать шею = напрашиваться на неприятности)? Have I uttered one threatening word (разве я произнес хоть одно угрожающее слово)? Let me just say (позвольте мне только сказать) that I am prepared to meet any condition you name (что я готов на любое условие, которое вы назовете) to get Johnny Fontane that movie (чтобы доставить). I think I've already offered a great deal (уже предложил довольно много) for such a small favor. A favor that I understand it would be in your interest to grant. Johnny tells me that you admit (признаете) he would be perfect for that part (что он в совершенстве подходит для этой роли). And let me say that this favor would never be asked if that were not so. In fact, if you're worried about your investment (если вы волнуетесь по поводу ваших вложений), my client would finance the picture. But please let me make myself absolutely clear (позвольте мне высказаться со всей ясностью). We understand your no is no. Nobody can force you or is trying to (никто не может вынудить вас и никто не пытается сделать это). We know about your friendship with Mr. Hoover, I may add (я хотел бы добавить, заметить), and my boss respects you for it. He respects that relationship very much."

Woltz had been doodling (машинально чертил, рисовал: to doodle [du:dl]) with a huge, red-feathered pen (ручкой с красным пером). At the mention of money (при упоминании денег) his interest was aroused (был разбужен, пробудился; to arouse – будить, пробуждать) and he stopped doodling. He said patronizingly (покровительственно = высокомерно, свысока), "This picture is budgeted at five million."

Hagen whistled softly (тихо свистнул) to show that he was impressed. Then he said very casually (очень вскользь, ненавязчиво), "My boss has a lot of friends who back his judgment (которые поддержат его суждение = решение)."

For the first time Woltz seemed to take the whole thing seriously. He studied Hagen's card. "I never heard of you," he said. "I know most of the big lawyers in New York, but just who the hell are you (но вы-то кто, черт возьми)?"

"I have one of those dignified corporate practices (я работаю на одну солидную корпорацию; dignified ['dıgnifaıd] – обладающий чувством собственного достоинства /dignity/, достойный, солидный)," Hagen said dryly (сухо). "I just handle this one account (мне просто поручили заняться этим делом /в виде исключения/)." He rose. "I won't take up any more of your time." He held out his hand, Woltz shook it. Hagen took a few steps toward the door and turned to face Woltz again. "I understand you have to deal with a lot of people who try to seem more important than they are. In my case the reverse is true (в этом случае верно обратное). Why don't you check me out with our mutual friend (почему бы вам не навести обо мне справки через нашего общего друга; mutual ['mju:tju∂l] – взаимный, обоюдный)? If you reconsider (передумаете), call me at my hotel." He paused. "This may be sacrilege to you (это может показаться вам кощунством ['sækrılıdG]), but my client can do things for you that even Mr. Hoover might find out of his range (может найти выше своих сил: «вне своей досягаемости»)." He saw the movie producer's eyes narrowing. Woltz was finally getting the message (наконец начал понимать, о чем речь: «получать весть»). "By the way (кстати), I admire your pictures very much (весьма восхищаюсь)," Hagen said in the most fawning voice he could manage (самым вкрадчивым голосом, на какой был способен; to fawn [fo:n] – вилять хвостом, ласкаться /о собаке/; подлизываться). "I hope you can keep up the good work. Our country needs it."

Late that afternoon Hagen received a call from the producer's secretary that a car would pick him up within the hour (заедет за ним: «подберет его» примерно через час, в течение часа) to take him out to Mr. Woltz's country home for dinner. She told him it would be about a three-hour drive but that the car was equipped with a bar and some hors d'oeuvres (закусками; hors d'oeuvre [o:’d∂:vr] – закуска /франц./). Hagen knew that Woltz made the trip in his private plane and wondered why he hadn't been invited to make the trip by air. The secretary's voice was adding politely, "Mr. Woltz suggested you bring an overnight bag (сумку с ночными принадлежностями; overnight – прдназначенный для использования ночью) and he'll get you to the airport in the morning."

"I'll do that," Hagen said. That was another thing to wonder about (над чем стоило задуматься). How did Woltz know he was taking the morning plane back to New York? He thought about it for a moment. The most likely explanation was (наиболее вероятным объяснением было) that Woltz had set private detectives on his trail (по его следу) to get all possible information. Then Woltz certainly knew he represented the Don, which meant that he knew something about the Don, which in turn meant that he was now ready to take the whole matter seriously. Something might be done after all, Hagen thought. And maybe Woltz was smarter than he had appeared this morning (был умнее, чем казался).

Hagen listened patiently. He had expected better from a man of Woltz's stature. Was it possible that a man who acted this stupidly could rise to the head of a company worth hundreds of millions? That was something to think about since the Don was looking for new things to put money into, and if the top brains of this industry were so dumb, movies might be the thing. The abuse itself bothered him not at all. Hagen had learned the art of negotiation from the Don himself. "Never get angry," the Don had instructed. "Never make a threat. Reason with people." The word "reason" sounded so much better in Italian, rajunah, to rejoin. The art of this was to ignore all insults, all threats; to turn the other cheek. Hagen had seen the Don sit at a negotiating table for eight hours, swallowing insults, trying to persuade a notorious and megalomaniac strong-arm man to mend his ways. At the end of the eight hours Don Corleone had thrown up his hands in a helpless gesture and said to the other men at the table, "But no one can reason with this fellow," and had stalked out of the meeting room. The strong-arm man had turned white with fear. Emissaries were sent to bring the Don back into the room. An agreement was reached but two months later the strong-arm was shot to death in his favorite barbershop.

So Hagen started again, speaking in the most ordinary voice. "Look at my card," he said. "I'm a lawyer. Would I stick my neck out? Have I uttered one threatening word? Let me just say that I am prepared to meet any condition you name to get Johnny Fontane that movie. I think I've already offered a great deal for such a small favor. A favor that I understand it would be in your interest to grant. Johnny tells me that you admit he would be perfect for that part. And let me say that this favor would never be asked if that were not so. In fact, if you're worried about your investment, my client would finance the picture. But please let me make myself absolutely clear. We understand your no is no. Nobody can force you or is trying to. We know about your friendship with Mr. Hoover, I may add, and my boss respects you for it. He respects that relationship very much."

Woltz had been doodling with a huge, red-feathered pen. At the mention of money his interest was aroused and he stopped doodling. He said patronizingly, "This picture is budgeted at five million."

Hagen whistled softly to show that he was impressed. Then he said very casually, "My boss has a lot of friends who back his judgment."

For the first time Woltz seemed to take the whole thing seriously. He studied Hagen's card. "I never heard of you," he said. "I know most of the big lawyers in New York, but just who the hell are you?"

"I have one of those dignified corporate practices," Hagen said dryly. "I just handle this one account." He rose. "I won't take up any more of your time." He held out his hand, Woltz shook it. Hagen took a few steps toward the door and turned to face Woltz again. "I understand you have to deal with a lot of people who try to seem more important than they are. In my case the reverse is true. Why don't you check me out with our mutual friend? If you reconsider, call me at my hotel." He paused. "This may be sacrilege to you, but my client can do things for you that even Mr. Hoover might find out of his range." He saw the movie producer's eyes narrowing. Woltz was finally getting the message. "By the way, I admire your pictures very much," Hagen said in the most fawning voice he could manage. "I hope you can keep up the good work. Our country needs it."

Late that afternoon Hagen received a call from the producer's secretary that a car would pick him up within the hour to take him out to Mr. Woltz's country home for dinner. She told him it would be about a three-hour drive but that the car was equipped with a bar and some hors d'oeuvres. Hagen knew that Woltz made the trip in his private plane and wondered why he hadn't been invited to make the trip by air. The secretary's voice was adding politely, "Mr. Woltz suggested you bring an overnight bag and he'll get you to the airport in the morning."

"I'll do that," Hagen said. That was another thing to wonder about. How did Woltz know he was taking the morning plane back to New York? He thought about it for a moment. The most likely explanation was that Woltz had set private detectives on his trail to get all possible information. Then Woltz certainly knew he represented the Don, which meant that he knew something about the Don, which in turn meant that he was now ready to take the whole matter seriously. Something might be done after all, Hagen thought. And maybe Woltz was smarter than he had appeared this morning.

The home of Jack Woltz looked like an implausible movie set (выглядел подобно невероятной, фантастической съемочной площадке, подобно каким-то невероятным декорациям; implausible [ım'plo:zıbl] – невероятный, невозможный; plausible [‘plo:zıb∂l] – благовидный; правдоподобный). There was a plantation-type mansion (особняк), huge grounds girdled (огромные участки, опоясанные) by a rich black-dirt (с посыпанной черной землей; dirt – грязь; рыхлая земля) bridle path (конной дорожкой; bridle [braıdl] – уздечка), stables and pasture for a herd of horses (и пастбище для табуна коней; pasture [‘pα:st∫∂]). The hedges (живые изгороди), flower beds (клумбы) and grasses were as carefully (столь же тщательно) manicured as a movie star's nails (ногти).

Woltz greeted Hagen on a glass-panel air-conditioned porch (на застекленном крыльце с кондиционером). The producer was informally dressed (по-домашнему) in blue silk shirt open at the neck, mustard-colored slacks (в широких брюках горчичного цвета; mustard [‘mLst∂d] – горчица), soft leather sandals (из мягкой кожи). Framed in all this color and rich fabric (в обрамлении всех этих красок и яркой, насыщенной цветом ткани; fabric [‘fæbrık] – ткань, материал) his seamed, tough face (жесткое, грубое [tLf]) was startling (смотрелось странно, поражало; to startle – испугать, поразить, заставить вздрогнуть). He handed Hagen an outsized martini glass (огромный стакан) and took one for himself from the prepared tray (с подготовленного подноса). He seemed more friendly than he had been earlier in the day. He put his arm over Hagen's shoulder and said, "We have a little time before dinner, let's go look at my horses." As they walked toward the stables he said, "I checked you out, Tom; you should have told me your boss is Corleone (должны бы были /сразу/ сказать мне). I thought you were just some third-rate hustler (третьеразрядный мошенник; hustler – предприимчивый человек; мошенник) Johnny was running in to bluff me (прислал запугать меня, взять меня на пушку, блефовать со мной). And I don't bluff. Not that I want to make enemies (не то чтобы я хотел делать врагов), I never believed in that (мне это никогда не нравилось: «я никогда в это не верил»). But let's just enjoy ourselves now (давайте сейчас просто развлечемся, приятно проведем время). We can talk business after dinner."

Surprisingly Woltz proved to be a truly considerate host (оказался поистине радушным хозяином; considerate [k∂n'sıd∂rıt] – внимательный к другим, деликатный, тактичный). He explained his new methods, innovations (нововведения) that he hoped would make his stable the most successful in America (самыми преуспевающими /конюшнями/). The stables were all fire-proofed (огнеупорные; proof – подтверждение, доказательство; непроницаемость), sanitized to the highest degree (оборудованные согласно санитарным требованиям в высочайшей степени), and guarded by a special security detail of private detectives (специальной группой, специальным расчетом ['di:teıl]). Finally Woltz led him to a stall which had a huge bronze plaque (дощечку, пластинку, знак [plα:k]) attached to its outside wall (приделанной к его внешней стене; to attach [∂‘tæt∫] – прикреплять). On the plaque was the name "Khartoum."

The horse inside the stall was, even to Hagen's inexperienced eyes (даже для его неопытных глаз), a beautiful animal. Khartoum's skin was jet black (черная, как смоль; jet – гагат, черный янтарь) except for a diamond-shaped white patch on his huge forehead. The great brown eyes glinted like golden apples, the black skin over the taut body (на туго натянутом, упругом теле) was silk. Woltz said with childish pride (с ребяческой гордостью), "The greatest racehorse in the world (величайшая беговая лошадь в мире). I bought him in England last year for six hundred grand (за шестьсот тысяч; grand – штука /баксов/ – сленг). I bet (готов поспорить, бьюсь об заклад) even the Russian Czars never paid that much for a single horse (такую сумму за одного-единственного коня). But I'm not going to race him, I'm going to put him to stud. I'm going to build the greatest racing stable this country has ever known (когда-либо знала)." He stroked the horse's mane (погладил гриву) and called out softly, "Khartoum, Khartoum." There was real love in his voice and the animal responded. Woltz said to Hagen, "I'm a good horseman (наездник), you know, and the first time I ever rode (когда я сел на лошадь; to ride – ездить верхом) I was fifty years old." He laughed. "Maybe one of my grandmothers in Russia got raped by a Cossack (была изнасилована казаком) and I got his blood." He tickled Khartoum's belly (пощекотал живот, брюхо) and said with sincere admiration (с искренним восхищением; sincere [sın'sı∂]), "Look at that cock on him (какой у него член). I should have such a cock (мне бы такой)."

The home of Jack Woltz looked like an implausible movie set. There was a plantation-type mansion, huge grounds girdled by a rich black-dirt bridle path, stables and pasture for a herd of horses. The hedges, flower beds and grasses were as carefully manicured as a movie star's nails.

Woltz greeted Hagen on a glass-panel air-conditioned porch. The producer was informally dressed in blue silk shirt open at the neck, mustard-colored slacks, soft leather sandals. Framed in all this color and rich fabric his seamed, tough face was startling. He handed Hagen an outsized martini glass and took one for himself from the prepared tray. He seemed more friendly than he had been earlier in the day. He put his arm over Hagen's shoulder and said, "We have a little time before dinner, let's go look at my horses." As they walked toward the stables he said, "I checked you out, Tom; you should have told me your boss is Corleone. I thought you were just some third-rate hustler Johnny was running in to bluff me. And I don't bluff. Not that I want to make enemies, I never believed in that. But let's just enjoy ourselves now. We can talk business after dinner."

Surprisingly Woltz proved to be a truly considerate host. He explained his new methods, innovations that he hoped would make his stable the most successful in America. The stables were all fire-proofed, sanitized to the highest degree, and guarded by a special security detail of private detectives. Finally Woltz led him to a stall which had a huge bronze plaque attached to its outside wall. On the plaque was the name "Khartoum."

The horse inside the stall was, even to Hagen's inexperienced eyes, a beautiful animal. Khartoum's skin was jet black except for a diamond-shaped white patch on his huge forehead. The great brown eyes glinted like golden apples, the black skin over the taut body was silk. Woltz said with childish pride, "The greatest racehorse in the world. I bought him in England last year for six hundred grand. I bet even the Russian Czars never paid that much for a single horse. But I'm not going to race him, I'm going to put him to stud. I'm going to build the greatest racing stable this country has ever known." He stroked the horse's mane and called out softly, "Khartoum, Khartoum." There was real love in his voice and the animal responded. Woltz said to Hagen, "I'm a good horseman, you know, and the first time I ever rode I was fifty years old." He laughed. "Maybe one of my grandmothers in Russia got raped by a Cossack and I got his blood." He tickled Khartoum's belly and said with sincere admiration, "Look at that cock on him. I should have such a cock."

They went back to the mansion to have dinner. It was served by three waiters (официантами) under the command of a butler («под командованием» дворецкого), the table linen (салфетки и скатерти; linen [‘lının] – полотно, холст) and ware (приборы; ware [we∂] – изделия) were all gold thread (золотая нить [θred]) and silver, but Hagen found the food mediocre (нашел посредственной ['mi:dı∂uk∂]). Woltz obviously lived alone, and just as obviously (и точно также очевидно) was not a man who cared about food. Hagen waited until they had both lit up (зажгли; to light up) huge Havana cigars before he asked Woltz, "Does Johnny get it or not?"

"I can't," Woltz said. "I can't put Johnny into that picture even if I wanted to. The contracts are all signed for all the performers (подписаны для всех исполнителей) and the cameras roll (завертятся) next week. There's no way I can swing it («качнуть это» = что-либо в этом изменить)."

Hagen said impatiently, "Mr. Woltz, the big advantage of dealing with a man at the top (большое преимущество того, что имеешь дело с руководителем; advantage [∂d’vα:ntıdG]) is that such an excuse is not valid (как раз то, что такая отговорка недействительна = невозможна; valid ['vælıd] – имеющий силу, правомерный). You can do anything you want to do." He puffed on his cigar (подымил, пустил дым; to puff – дуть порывами /о ветре/; резко выдыхать). "Don't you believe my client can keep his promises?"

Woltz said dryly, "I believe that I'm going to have labor trouble. Goff called me up on that, the son of a bitch, and the way he talked to me you'd never guess (никогда не догадаешься = как будто бы я ему не ...) I pay him a hundred grand a year under the table. And I believe you can get that fag he-man star of mine off heroin (что сможете заставить отказаться от героина эту мою звезду-шестерку, щенка, играющую настоящего мужчину; he-man – настоящий мужчина; fag – младший ученик, оказывающий услуги старшему /в английских школах/; человек, выполняющий тяжелую, нудную работу). But I don't care about that and I can finance my own pictures. Because I hate that bastard Fontane. Tell your boss this is one favor I can't give but that he should try me again on anything else (пусть попробует что-нибудь другое). Anything at all (все что угодно)."

Hagen thought, you sneaky bastard (подлый, хитрый ублюдок; to sneak – подкрадываться; делать что-либо украдкой), then why the hell did you bring me all the way out here (заставил меня тащиться в такую даль)? The producer had something on his mind (что-то на уме). Hagen said coldly, "I don't think you understand the situation. Mr. Corleone is Johnny Fontane's godfather. That is a very close, a very sacred religious relationship (очень тесная = близкая, очень святая связь; sacred [‘seıkrıd] – священный)." Woltz bowed his head in respect at this reference to religion (склонил голову в знак уважения при этом упоминании религии). Hagen went on. "Italians have a little joke, that the world is so hard a man must have two fathers to look after him (чтобы следить, заботиться о нем), and that's why they have godfathers. Since Johnny's father died, Mr. Corleone feels his responsibility even more deeply (чувствет свою ответственность еще более глубоко [rıspons∂’bılıtı]; responsible [rıs’pons∂bl] – ответственный). As for trying you again, Mr. Corleone is much too sensitive (слишком чувствителен = обидчив). He never asks a second favor where he has been refused the first."

Woltz shrugged. "I'm sorry. The answer is still no (все же: «все еще» нет). But since you're here, what will it cost me to have that labor trouble cleared up (сколько мне будет стоить, чтобы уладить: «прояснить» эту профсоюзную проблему; to clear up – прибрать/ся/; прояснить)? In cash (наличными). Right now (прямо сейчас)."

They went back to the mansion to have dinner. It was served by three waiters under the command of a butler, the table linen and ware were all gold thread and silver, but Hagen found the food mediocre. Woltz obviously lived alone, and just as obviously was not a man who cared about food. Hagen waited until they had both lit up huge Havana cigars before he asked Woltz, "Does Johnny get it or not?"

"I can't," Woltz said. "I can't put Johnny into that picture even if I wanted to. The contracts are all signed for all the performers and the cameras roll next week. There's no way I can swing it."

Hagen said impatiently, "Mr. Woltz, the big advantage of dealing with a man at the top is that such an excuse is not valid. You can do anything you want to do." He puffed on his cigar. "Don't you believe my client can keep his promises?"

Woltz said dryly, "I believe that I'm going to have labor trouble. Goff called me up on that, the son of a bitch, and the way he talked to me you'd never guess I pay him a hundred grand a year under the table. And I believe you can get that fag he-man star of mine off heroin. But I don't care about that and I can finance my own pictures. Because I hate that bastard Fontane. Tell your boss this is one favor I can't give but that he should try me again on anything else. Anything at all."

Hagen thought, you sneaky bastard, then why the hell did you bring me all the way out here? The producer had something on his mind. Hagen said coldly, "I don't think you understand the situation. Mr. Corleone is Johnny Fontane's godfather. That is a very close, a very sacred religious relationship." Woltz bowed his head in respect at this reference to religion. Hagen went on. "Italians have a little joke, that the world is so hard a man must have two fathers to look after him, and that's why they have godfathers. Since Johnny's father died, Mr. Corleone feels his responsibility even more deeply. As for trying you again, Mr. Corleone is much too sensitive. He never asks a second favor where he has been refused the first."

Woltz shrugged. "I'm sorry. The answer is still no. But since you're here, what will it cost me to have that labor trouble cleared up? In cash. Right now."

That solved one puzzle for Hagen (это разрешило загадку). Why Woltz was putting in so much time on him when he had already decided (если он уже решил) not to give Johnny the part. And that could not be changed at this meeting. Woltz felt secure (чувствовал себя в безопасности: «уверенно» [si:’kju∂]); he was not afraid of the power of Don Corleone. And certainly Woltz with his national political connections, his acquaintanceship with the FBI chief (знакомство, связи с шефом ФБР; acquaintance [∂'kweınt∂ns] – знакомство), his huge personal fortune and his absolute power in the film industry, could not feel threatened by Don Corleone. To any intelligent man, even to Hagen, it seemed that Woltz had correctly assessed his position (правильно оценил свое положение; to assess [∂‘ses] – определять /сумму налога/; оценивать имущество для обложения налогом). He was impregnable to the Don (неприступен, неуязвим [ım’pregn∂bl]) if he was willing to take the losses (если он был согласен понести убытки) the labor struggle would cost (которые будет стоить профсоюзная борьба). There was only one thing wrong with the whole equation (во всем этом уравнении [ı’kweı∫∂n]). Don Corleone had promised his godson he would get the part and Don Corleone had never, to Hagen's knowledge, broken his word in such matters.

Hagen said quietly, "You are deliberately misunderstanding me (вы нарочно, специально не понимаете, превратно понимаете меня). You are trying to make me an accomplice to extortion (сообщником в вымогательстве; accomplice [∂'komplıs]; to extort [ıks’to:rt] – вымогать /деньги/). Mr. Corleone promises only to speak in your favor (в вашу пользу) on this labor trouble as a matter of friendship (в знак дружбы) in return (взамен) for your speaking in behalf of his client (в пользу, ради его клиента). A friendly exchange of influence (дружеский обмен влиянием), nothing more. But I can see you don't take me seriously. Personally, I think that is a mistake (ошибка)."

Woltz, as if he had been waiting for such a moment, let himself get angry («позволил, дал себе рассердиться»). "I understood perfectly," he said. "That's the Mafia style, isn't it? All olive oil and sweet talk when what you're really doing is making threats. So let me lay it on the line. Johnny Fontane will never get that part and he's perfect for it. It would make him a great star. But he never will be because I hate that pinko punk (ненавижу этого жалкого франта, фраера; pinko – розовый /сленг/; punk – /устар./ проститутка; пассивный гомосексуалист; бродяга, побирающийся с другим, более опытным; никчемный человек) and I'm going to run him out of the movies (собираюсь выдворить его из кино вообще). And I'll tell you why. He ruined one of my most valuable protégés (испортил, загубил одну из самых ценных моих протеже). For five years I had this girl under training, singing, dancing, acting lessons, I spent hundreds of thousands of dollars. I was going to make her a star. I'll be even more frank (откровенен), just to show you that I'm not a hard-hearted man, that it wasn't all dollars and cents. That girl was beautiful and she was the greatest piece of ass («самый великолепный кусок задницы») I've ever had (который у меня когда-либо был) and I've had them all over the world (а они были у меня повсюду, по всему миру). She could suck you out like a water pump (могла высосать тебя не хуже водяного насоса). Then Johnny comes along with that olive-oil voice (заявляется со своим оливковым, масляным голосом) and guinea charm and she runs off (сбегает). She threw it all away just to make me ridiculous (сделать меня смешным, осрамить ; ridiculous [rı’dıkjul∂s] – нелепый, смехотворный, смешной). A man in my position, Mr. Hagen, can't afford to look ridiculous (не может позволить себе [∂'fo:d]). I have to pay Johnny off (пришлось отплатить; рассчитать)."

That solved one puzzle for Hagen. Why Woltz was putting in so much time on him when he had already decided not to give Johnny the part. And that could not be changed at this meeting. Woltz felt secure; he was not afraid of the power of Don Corleone. And certainly Woltz with his national political connections, his acquaintanceship with the FBI chief, his huge personal fortune and his absolute power in the film industry, could not feel threatened by Don Corleone. To any intelligent man, even to Hagen, it seemed that Woltz had correctly assessed his position. He was impregnable to the Don if he was willing to take the losses the labor struggle would cost. There was only one thing wrong with the whole equation. Don Corleone had promised his godson he would get the part and Don Corleone had never, to Hagen's knowledge, broken his word in such matters.

Hagen said quietly, "You are deliberately misunderstanding me. You are trying to make me an accomplice to extortion. Mr. Corleone promises only to speak in your favor on this labor trouble as a matter of friendship in return for your speaking in behalf of his client. A friendly exchange of influence, nothing more. But I can see you don't take me seriously. Personally, I think that is a mistake."

Woltz, as if he had been waiting for such a moment, let himself get angry. "I understood perfectly," he said. "That's the Mafia style, isn't it? All olive oil and sweet talk when what you're really doing is making threats. So let me lay it on the line. Johnny Fontane will never get that part and he's perfect for it. It would make him a great star. But he never will be because I hate that pinko punk and I'm going to run him out of the movies. And I'll tell you why. He ruined one of my most valuable protégés. For five years I had this girl under training, singing, dancing, acting lessons, I spent hundreds of thousands of dollars. I was going to make her a star. I'll be even more frank, just to show you that I'm not a hard-hearted man, that it wasn't all dollars and cents. That girl was beautiful and she was the greatest piece of ass I've ever had and I've had them all over the world. She could suck you out like a water pump. Then Johnny comes along with that olive-oil voice and guinea charm and she runs off. She threw it all away just to make me ridiculous. A man in my position, Mr. Hagen, can't afford to look ridiculous. I have to pay Johnny off."

For the first time, Woltz succeeded in astounding Hagen (удалось удивить; to succeed [s∂k’si:d] – следовать за чем-либо; достигать цели; to astound [∂s'taund] – удивлять, поражать). He found it inconceivable (немыслимым, непостижимым [ınk∂n'si:v∂bl]; to conceive [k∂n'si:v] – постигать) that a grown man of substance (солидный; substance ['sLbst∂ns] – материя; содержание; имущество) would let such trivialities (может позволить таким пустякам, столь тривиальным вещам) affect his judgment (повлиять на свое суждение, решение) in an affair of business, and one of such importance (да еще /в деле/ такой важности). In Hagen's world, the Corleones' world, the physical beauty, the sexual power of women, carried not the slightest weight in worldly matters (не имело: «не несло» ни малейшего веса в мирских делах). It was a private affair, except, of course, in matters of marriage and family disgrace (бесчестья; позора). Hagen decided to make one last try (последнюю попытку).

"You are absolutely right, Mr. Woltz," Hagen said. "But are your grievances that major (но настолько ли велика ваша обида, значительны ваши страдания; grievance [gri:v∂ns] – обида, недовольство /чтобы затмевать все/; major [‘meıdG∂] – более важный)? I don't think you've understood how important this very small favor is to my client. Mr. Corleone held the infant Johnny in his arms when he was baptized (крещен; to baptize [bæp’taız]). When Johnny's father died, Mr. Corleone assumed the duties of parenthood (взял на себя, принял родительские обязанности: «обязанности родительства»), indeed he is called 'Godfather' by many, many people who wish to show their respect and gratitude for the help he has given them. Mr. Corleone never lets his friends down (никогда не оставляет в беде)."

Woltz stood up abruptly (резко). "I've listened to about enough. Thugs don't give me orders (головорезы не дают мне приказаний), I give them orders. If I pick I up this phone (сниму трубку), you'll spend the night in jail (проведете ночь в тюрьме). And if that Mafia goombah tries any rough stuff (что-нибудь крутое: «грубые вещи»; rough [rLf] – грубый), he'll find out (обнаружит, поймет) I'm not a band leader. Yeah, I heard that story too. Listen, your Mr. Corleone will never know what hit him. Even if I have to use my influence at the White House."

The stupid, stupid son of a bitch. How the hell did he get to be a pezzonovante, Hagen wondered. Advisor to the President, head of the biggest movie studio in the world. Definitely (решительно) the Don should get into the movie business. And the guy was taking his words at their sentimental face value (воспринимал слова на их поверхностном, сентиментальном уровне). He was not getting the message.

"Thank you for the dinner and a pleasant evening," Hagen said. "Could you give me transportation to the airport? I don't think I'll spend the night." He smiled coldly at Woltz. "Mr. Corleone is a man who insists on hearing bad news at once (настаивает на том, чтобы плохую новость услышать сразу, тут же)."

While waiting in the floodlit colonnade (в прожекторном освещении, в освещении заливающим светом; floodlight – прожектор; to floodlight – освещать прожектором; flood [flLd] – наводнение, разлив) of the mansion for his car, Hagen saw two women about to enter a long limousine already parked in the driveway. They were the beautiful twelve-year-old blond girl and her mother he had seen in Woltz's office that morning. But now the girl's exquisitely cut mouth («изящно вырезанный рот») seemed to have smeared into a thick, pink mass (казался смазанным, размазанным в густую, розовую массу). Her sea-blue eyes were filmed over (покрыты пленкой) and when she walked down the steps toward the open car her long legs tottered like a crippled foal's (дрожали, шатались как у хромого жеребенка; cripple – калека, увечный). Her mother supported the child (поддерживала), helping her into the car, hissing (шипя; to hiss – шипеть, свистеть) commands into her ear. The mother's head turned for a quick furtive look (взгляд украдкой; furtive [‘f∂:tıv] – вороватый; затаенный) at Hagen and he saw in her eyes a burning, hawklike (ястребиный; hawk – ястреб) triumph. Then she too disappeared into the limousine.

So that was why he hadn't got the plane ride from Los Angeles, Hagen thought. The girl and her mother had made the trip with the movie producer. That had given Woltz enough time to relax before dinner and do the job on the little kid. And Johnny wanted to live in this world? Good luck to him, and good luck to Woltz.

For the first time, Woltz succeeded in astounding Hagen. He found it inconceivable that a grown man of substance would let such trivialities affect his judgment in an affair of business, and one of such importance. In Hagen's world, the Corleones' world, the physical beauty, the sexual power of women, carried not the slightest weight in worldly matters. It was a private affair, except, of course, in matters of marriage and family disgrace. Hagen decided to make one last try.

"You are absolutely right, Mr. Woltz," Hagen said. "But are your grievances that major? I don't think you've understood how important this very small favor is to my client. Mr. Corleone held the infant Johnny in his arms when he was baptized. When Johnny's father died, Mr. Corleone assumed the duties of parenthood, indeed he is called 'Godfather' by many, many people who wish to show their respect and gratitude for the help he has given them. Mr. Corleone never lets his friends down."

Woltz stood up abruptly. "I've listened to about enough. Thugs don't give me orders, I give them orders. If I pick I up this phone, you'll spend the night in jail. And if that Mafia goombah tries any rough stuff, he'll find out I'm not a band leader. Yeah, I heard that story too. Listen, your Mr. Corleone will never know what hit him. Even if I have to use my influence at the White House."

The stupid, stupid son of a bitch. How the hell did he get to be a pezzonovante, Hagen wondered. Advisor to the President, head of the biggest movie studio in the world. Definitely the Don should get into the movie business. And the guy was taking his words at their sentimental face value. He was not getting the message.

"Thank you for the dinner and a pleasant evening," Hagen said. "Could you give me transportation to the airport? I don't think I'll spend the night." He smiled coldly at Woltz. "Mr. Corleone is a man who insists on hearing bad news at once."

While waiting in the floodlit colonnade of the mansion for his car, Hagen saw two women about to enter a long limousine already parked in the driveway. They were the beautiful twelve-year-old blond girl and her mother he had seen in Woltz's office that morning. But now the girl's exquisitely cut mouth seemed to have smeared into a thick, pink mass. Her sea-blue eyes were filmed over and when she walked down the steps toward the open car her long legs tottered like a crippled foal's. Her mother supported the child, helping her into the car, hissing commands into her ear. The mother's head turned for a quick furtive look at Hagen and he saw in her eyes a burning, hawklike triumph. Then she too disappeared into the limousine.

So that was why he hadn't got the plane ride from Los Angeles, Hagen thought. The girl and her mother had made the trip with the movie producer. That had given Woltz enough time to relax before dinner and do the job on the little kid. And Johnny wanted to live in this world? Good luck to him, and good luck to Woltz.

Paulie Gatto hated quickie jobs (на скорую руку), especially when they involved violence (особенно если они включали = предполагали насилие). He liked to plan things ahead (заранее планировать; ahead – предстоящий, впереди). And something like tonight, even though it was punk stuff, could turn into serious business if somebody made a mistake. Now, sipping his beer, he glanced around, checking how the two young punks were making out (справляются, как у них идут дела) with the two little tramps (шлюшками; tramp – бродяга; /сленг/ проститутка) at the bar.

Paulie Gatto knew everything there was to know about those two punks. Their names were Jerry Wagner and Kevin Moonan. They were both about twenty years old, good-looking, brown-haired, tall, well-built. Both were due to go back to college (должны были, ожидалось, что; due – должный, ожидаемый) out of town in two weeks, both had fathers with political influence and this, with their college student classification (наряду со студенческим статусом), had so far kept them out of the draft (пока давало им возможность избежать призыва /в армию/; to draw – тащить, волочить). They were both also under suspended sentences for assaulting the daughter of Amerigo Bonasera (за попытку изнасилования; to assault [∂‘so:lt]– нападать, набрасываться). The lousy bastards (вшивые ублюдки), Paulie Gatto thought. Draft dodging (уклонение от призыва; to dodge – избегать, увертываться, уклоняться), violating their probation (нарушение своего условного срока, освобождения на поруки; to violate [‘vaı∂leıt] – нарушать, попирать) by drinking in a bar after midnight, chasing floozies (охота на шлюх; to chase – гнаться, преследовать, охотиться; floozie – шлюха /сленг/). Young punks. Paulie Gatto had been deferred from the draft himself (ему самому была предоставлена отсрочка; to defer [dı'f∂:] – задерживать, отсрочивать) because his doctor had furnished the draft board (предоставил комиссии; to furnish – снабжать, предоставлять) with documents showing that this patient, male, white, aged twenty-six, unmarried, had received electrical shock treatments (лечение, процедуры; to treat – обращаться; лечить) for a mental condition (состояние психики, психическое состояние; condition – условие; состояние, положение). All false of course, but Paulie Gatto felt that he had earned his draft exemption (что заработал свое освобождение /от армии/). It had been arranged by Clemenza after Gatto had "made his bones" («сделал свои кости» = прошел испытание, совершив преступление) in the family business.

It was Clemenza who had told him that this job must be rushed through (должно быть проделано очень быстро; to rush – делать бросок, нестись), before the boys went to college. Why the hell did it have to be done in New York (это должно быть сделано), Gatto wondered. Clemenza was always giving extra orders instead of just giving out the job. Now if those two little tramps walked out with the punks it would be another night wasted (потрачена зря; to waste – тратить /зря/).

He could hear one of the girls laughing and saying, "Are you crazy, Jerry? I'm not going in any car with you. I don't want to wind up in the hospital (кончить в госпитале; to wind up – сматывать, подтягивать, заканчивать; to wind – наматывать) like that other poor girl." Her voice was spitefully rich with satisfaction (был полон язвительного злорадства: «злорадно насыщен удовлетворением»; spiteful – злорадный, язвительный; spite – злоба, озлобленность). That was enough for Gatto. He finished up his beer and walked out into the dark street. Perfect. It was after midnight. There was only one other bar that showed light. The rest of the stores were closed (остальные магазины были закрыты; store – склад; магазин). The precinct patrol car (о /полицейской/ машине, патрулирующей участок; precinct [‘pri:sıŋkt]– административный округ, относящийся к определенному полицейскому участку) had been taken care of by Clemenza (позаботился). They wouldn't be around that way until they got a radio call (не заедут сюда, пока не получат вызова) and then they'd come slow (и даже тогда приедут медленно).

He leaned against the four-door Chevy sedan. In the back seat two men were sitting, almost invisible, although they were very big men. Paulie said, "Take them when they come out."

He still thought it had all been set up too fast (подготовлено, спланировано слишком быстро). Clemenza had given him copies of the police mug shots (полицейских фотографий; mug – /пивная/ кружка; /сленг/ лицо, рот; mug shot – фотография /сделанная в полиции/) of the two punks, the dope (подсказку; dope – густое смазывающее вещество, смазка; to dope up – /сленг/ выискивать, выяснять) on where the punks went drinking every night to pick up bar girls. Paulie had recruited two of the strong-arms (громил) in the family and fingered the punks for them (указал). He had also given them their instructions. No blows on the top or the back of the head (никаких ударов по темени или затылку), there was to be no accidental fatality (не должно быть никаких случайных несчастных случаев; fatality [f∂'tælıtı] – рок, обреченность, фатальность; смерть /от несчастного случая/). Other than that (в остальном же) they could go as far as they liked. He had given them only one warning: "If those punks get out of the hospital in less than a month, you guys go back to driving trucks."

The two big men were getting out of the car. They were both ex-boxers who had never made it past the small clubs (которым никогда не удалось выбраться за пределы маленьких клубов) and had been fixed up by Sonny Corleone (были обеспечены /долей/; to fixed up – организовать, уладить, договориться; дать приют) with a little loan-shark action (loan-shark – гангстер-ростовщик, человек, ссужающий деньги под грабительские проценты; to loan – одалживать, ссужать + shark – акула) so that they could make a decent living (достойное существование, достойный заработок). They were, naturally, anxious to show their gratitude (стремились показать свою благодарность; anxious [‘æŋk∫∂s] – озабоченный, беспокоящийся; сильно желающий /чего-либо/).

Paulie Gatto hated quickie jobs, especially when they involved violence. He liked to plan things ahead. And something like tonight, even though it was punk stuff, could turn into serious business if somebody made a mistake. Now, sipping his beer, he glanced around, checking how the two young punks were making out with the two little tramps at the bar.

Paulie Gatto knew everything there was to know about those two punks. Their names were Jerry Wagner and Kevin Moonan. They were both about twenty years old, good-looking, brown-haired, tall, well-built. Both were due to go back to college out of town in two weeks, both had fathers with political influence and this, with their college student classification, had so far kept them out of the draft. They were both also under suspended sentences for assaulting the daughter of Amerigo Bonasera. The lousy bastards, Paulie Gatto thought. Draft dodging, violating their probation by drinking in a bar after midnight, chasing floozies. Young punks. Paulie Gatto had been deferred from the draft himself because his doctor had furnished the draft board with documents showing that this patient, male, white, aged twenty-six, unmarried, had received electrical shock treatments for a mental condition. All false of course, but Paulie Gatto felt that he had earned his draft exemption. It had been arranged by Clemenza after Gatto had "made his bones" in the family business.