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.
