7. Перекладіть, виділіть та визначте тропи та фігури, тип строфи та рими.
I
She walks in beauty – like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies, And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to the tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
II
One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress Or softly lightens o'er her face – Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
III
And on that cheek and o'er that brow So soft, so calm yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow But tell of days in goodness spent A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent. (G. Byron)
8. Перекладіть, визначте тропи.
„King Claudius. How it is that the clouds still hang on you?
Hamlet. Not so my lord I am too much in the sun”.
„The fruitful river in the eye”.
„So excellent a king; so loving to my mother
That he would not permit the wings of heaven
To visit her face too roughly”.
„The snake that did sting your father life
Now wears his crown” (about Claudius).
„From the table of my memory
I will wipe away all trivial foolish records”.
„Even if you are as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, you shall not escape calumny”.
„The honey of his music vows”.
„To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?”
(W. Shakespeare „Hamlet”)
9. Актуалізуйте знання, отримані на лекціях та семинарах (ключові терміни виділені жирним шрифтом). Дайте відповідь на запитання: „яку роль відіграє портрет у створенні характеру героя поеми Дж. Байрона «Корсар» Конрада?” Які риси особистості розкриває портрет?
Ulike the heroes of each ancient race,
Demons in akt, but Gods at least in
face,
In Conrad's form seems little to
admire,
Though his dark eyebrow shades a
glance of fire:
Robust but not Herculean — to the
sight
No giant frame sets forth his
common height;
Yet, in the whole, who paused to
look again,
Saw more than marks the crowd of
vulgar men;
They gaxe and marvel how — and
still confess
That thus it is, but why they cannot
guess.
Sun-burnt his cheek, his forehead
high and pale
The sable curls in wild profusion veil;
And oft, perforce, his rising lip
reveals
The haughtier thought it curbs, but
scarce conceals.
Though smooth his voice, and calm
his general mien,
Still seems there something he
would not have seen:
His features' deepening lines and
variyng hue
At times attracted, yet perplexed
the view,
As if within that murkiness of mind
Worked feelings fearful, and yet
undefined <...>
There was a laughing Devil in his
sneer,
That raised emotions both of rage
and fear <...>
10. Актуалізуйте знання, отримані на лекціях та семинарах (ключові терміни виділені жирним шрифтом). Визначте тип портрету, який застосовує В. Скотт в романі «Айвенго», зображуючи Бріана де Буагільбера.
The companion of the church dignitary was a man past forty, thin, strong, tall, and muscular; an athletic figure, which long fatige and constant exercise seemed to have left none of the softer part of the human form, having reduced the whole to brawn, bones, and sinews, which had sustained a thousand toils, and were ready to dare a thousand more. His head was covered with a scarlet cap, faced with fur, of that kind which the French call mortier, from its resemblance to the shape of an inverted mortar. His countenance was therefore fully displayed, and its expression was calculated to impress a degree of awe, if not of fear, upon strangers. High features, naturally strong and powerfully expressive, had been burnt almost into Negro blackness by constant exposure to the tropical sun, and might, in their ordinary state, be said to slumber after the storm of passion had passed away; but the projection of the veins of the forehead, the readiness with which the upper lip and its thick black moustaches quivered upon the slightest emotion, plainly intimated that the tempest might be again and easily awakened. His keen, piercing, dark eyes told in every glance a history of difficulties subdued and dangers dared, and seemed to challenge opposition to his wishes, for the pleasure of sweeping it from his road by a determined exertion of courage and of will; a deep scar on his brow gave additional sternness to his countenance and a sinister expression to one of his eyes, which had been slinghtly injured on the same occasion, and of which the vision, though perfect, was in a slinght and partial degree distorted. The upper dress of this personage resembled that of his companion in shape, being a long monastic mantle; but the colour, being scarlet, showed that he did not belong to any of the four regular ordens of monks. On the right shoulder of the mantle there was cut, in white cloth, a cross of a peculiar form. This upper robe concealed what at first view seemed rather inconsistent with its form, a shirt, namely, of linked mail, with sleeves and gloves of the same, curiously plaited and interwoven, as flexible to the body as those which are now wrought in the stocking-loom out of less obdurate materials. The forepart of his thighs, where the folds of his mantle permitted them to be seen, were also covered with linked mail; the knees and feet were defended by splints, or thin plates of steel, ingeniously jointed upon each other; and mail hose, reaching from the ankle to the knee, effectually protested the legs, and completed the rider's defensive armour. In his girdle he wore a long and double-edged dagger, which was the only offensive weapon about his person. He rode, not a mule, like his companion, but a strong hackney for the road, to save his gallant war-horse, which a squire led behind, fully accoutred for battle, with a chamfron or plaited head-piece upon his head, having a short spike projecting from the front.
11. Актуалізуйте знання, отримані на лекціях та семинарах (ключові терміни виділені жирним шрифтом). Визначте тип рими, тропи та фігури.
Annabel Lee
It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea: But we loved with a love that was more than love — I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsmen came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me — Yes! — that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we — Of many far wiser than we — And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee: For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea.
(E. Poe)
12. Актуалізуйте знання, отримані на лекціях та семинарах (ключові терміни виділені жирним шрифтом). Визначте тип рими, тропи та фігури.
For when it dawned-they dropped
their arms,
And clustered round the mast;
Sweet sounds rose slowly through
their mouths,
And from their bodies passed.
Around, around, flew each sweet
sound,
Then darted to the Sun;
Slowly the sounds came back again,
Now mixed, now one by one.
Sometimes a-dropping from the sky
I heard the sky-lark sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are,
Now they seemed to fill the sea and air
With their sweet jargoning!
And now 'twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely flute;
And now it is an angel's song,
That makes the heavens be mute.
It ceased; yet still the sails made on
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leaty month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.
(S.T. Coleridge)
13. Актуалізуйте знання, отримані на лекціях та семинарах (ключові терміни виділені жирним шрифтом). Визначте тип рими, тропи та фігури.
I
She walks in beauty – like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies, And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to the tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
II
One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress Or softly lightens o'er her face – Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
III
And on that cheek and o'er that brow So soft, so calm yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow But tell of days in goodness spent A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent. (G. Byron)
14. Актуалізуйте знання, отримані на лекціях та семинарах (ключові терміни виділені жирним шрифтом). Визначте тип рими, тропи та фігури.
Ulalume
The skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crisped and sere-
The leaves they were withering and sere;
It was night in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year:
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
In the misty mid region of Weir--
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.
Here once, through an alley Titanic,
Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul--
Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.
These were days when my heart was volcanic
As the scoriac rivers that roll--
As the lavas that restlessly roll
Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek
In the ultimate climes of the pole--
That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek
In the realms of the boreal pole.
Our talk had been serious and sober,
But our thoughts they were palsied and sere--
Our memories were treacherous and sere,--
For we knew not the month was October,
And we marked not the night of the year
(Ah, night of all nights in the year!)--
We noted not the dim lake of Auber
(Though once we had journeyed down here)--
Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,
Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.
And now, as the night was senescent
And star-dials pointed to morn--
As the star-dials hinted of morn--
At the end of our path a liquescent
And nebulous lustre was born,
Out of which a miraculous crescent
Arose with a duplicate horn--
Astarte's bediamonded crescent
Distinct with its duplicate horn <…>
(E. Poe)
15. Актуалізуйте знання, отримані на лекціях та семинарах (ключові терміни виділені жирним шрифтом). Визначте основні жанрові ознаки поеми. Поясніть, чому поема Дж. Г. Байрона «Паломництво Чайльд Гарольда» належить до тих творів, які руйнують усталені межі жанрів. Проаналізуйте строфи 2-13. Спробуйте визначити ознаки посилення ліричного начала. Зверніть увагу на особливості художнього перекладу.
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ІІ Whilome in Albion's isle there dwelt a youth, Who ne in Virtue's ways did take delight; But spent his days in riot most uncouth, And vexed with mirth the drowsy ear of Night. Ah me! in sooth he was a shameless wight, Sore given to revel, and ungodly glee; Few earthly things found favour in his sight Save concubines and carnal companie, And flaunting wassailers of high and low degree. ІІІ Childe Harold was he hight: — but whence his name And lineage long, it suits me not to say <...> IV Childe Harold basked him in the Noontide sun, Disporting there like any other fly; Nor deemed before his little day was done One blast might chill him into misery. But long ere scarce a third of his passed by, Worse than Adversity the Childe befell; He helt the fulness of Satiety: Then loathed he his native land to dwell, Which seemed to him more lone than Eremite's sad cell.
V For he through Sin's long labirinth had run, Nor made atonement when he did amiss, Had sighed to many though he loved but one, And that loved one, alas! could ne'er be his <...> VI And now Childe Harold was sore sick at heart, And from his fellow Bacchanals would flee; Tis said, at times the sullen tear would start, But Pride congealed the drop within his ее: Apart he stalked in joyless reverie, And from his native land resolvet to go, And visit scorching climes beyond the sea; With plesure drugged, he almost longed for moe, And e'en for change of scene would i seek the shades below. VIII Yet oft-times in his maddest mirthful mood Strange pangs would flash along Childe Harold's brow, As if the Memory of sone deadly feud Or disappointed passion lurked below: But this none knew, nor haply cared to know; For his was not that open, artless soul That feels relief by bidding sorrow flow, Nor sought he friend to counsel or condole, Whate'er this grief mote be, which he could not control. IX And none did love him! <...> XII His house, his home, his heritage, his lands, The laughing dames in whom he did delight, Whose large blue eyes, fair locks, and snowy hands, Might shake the Saintship of an Anchorite, And long had fed his youthful appetite; His goblets brimmed with every costly wine, And all that mote to luxury invite, Without a sigh he left, to cross the brine, And traverse Paynim shores, and pass Earth's central line.
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2 Жил в Альбионе юноша. Свой век Он посвящал лишь развлеченьям праздным. В безумной жажде радостей и нег Распутством не гнушаясь безобразным, Душою предан низменным соблазнам, Но равно чужд и чести и стыду, Он в мире возлюбил многообразном — Увы! — лишь кратких связей череду Да собутыльников веселую орду. 3 Он звался Чайльд Гарольд. Не все равно ли, Каким он вел блестящим предкам счет! <...> 4 Вступая в девятнадцатый свой год, Как мотылек, резвился он, порхая, Не помышлял о том, что день пройдет И холодом повеет тьма ночная. Но вдруг, в расцвете жизненного мая, Заговорило пресыщенье в нем, Болезнь ума и сердца роковая, И показалось мерзким все кругом: Тюрьмою — родина, могилой — отчий дом.
5
И слепо шел дорогою страстей. Любил одну — прельщал любовью многих, Любил, но не назвал ее своей. 6 Но в сердце Чайльд глухую боль унес, И наслаждений жажда в нем остыла, И часто блеск его внезапных слез Лишь гордость уязвленная гасила. Меж тем тоски язвительная сила Звала покинуть край, где вырос он, — Чужих небес приветствовать светила; Он звал печаль, весельем пресыщен, Готов был в ад бежать, чтоб бросить Альбион. 8 Но часто в блеске, в шуме людных зал Лицо Гарольда муку выражало. Отвергнутую страсть он вспоминал Иль чувствовал вражды смертельной жало — Ничье живое сердце не узнало. Ни с кем не вел он дружеских бесед. Когда смятенье душу омрачало, В часы раздумий, в дни сердечных бед Презреньем он встречал сочувственный совет. 9 И в мире был он одинок. <...>
12 Наследство, дом, поместья родовые, Прелестных дам, чей смех он так любил, Чей синий взор, чьи локоны златые В нем часто юный пробуждали пыл — Здесь даже и святой бы согрешил, — Вином бесценным полные стаканы — Все то, чем роскошь радует кутил, Он променял на ветры и туманы, На рокот южных волн и варварские страны.
Переклад В. Лєвіка |
Он
совести не знал укоров
строгих
16. Актуалізуйте знання, отримані на лекціях та семинарах (ключові терміни виділені жирним шрифтом). Визначте основні жанрові ознаки балади. Ознайомтесь з оригінальним текстом англійської середньовічної фольклорної балади. Порівняйте текст оригіналу з двома варіантами перекладу. Доведіть, що відповідні тексти належать саме до жанру балади.
THE TWA CORBIES
As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
«Where sail we gang and dine today?»
«In behint you auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there.
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.
«His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's ta'en another mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.
«Ye» I'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike out his bonny blue enn;
Wi ae lock о his gowden hair
We 'll theek our nest when it grows bare.
Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sail ken where he is gane;
Oer his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sail blaw for evermair».
* * *
Ворон
к ворону летит,
Ворон ворону кричит:
«Ворон, где б нам отобедать?
Как бы нам о том проведать?»
Ворон ворону в ответ:
«Знаю, будет нам обед;
В чистом поле под ракитой
Богатырь лежит убитый.
Кем убит и отчего,
Знает сокол лишь его,
Да кобылка вороная,
Да хозяйка молодая».
Сокол в рощу улетел,
На кобылку недруг сел,
А хозяйка ждет милого,
Не убитого, живого.
Переклад О.С. Пушкіна
ТРИ ВОРОНА
Три ворона сидели в ряд –
И черен был у них наряд.
Спросил один неторопливо:
– Где нынче будет нам пожива?
– Вон там, на берегу крутом Убитый рыцарь под щитом. Да свора верная его
Не подпускает никого,
Да соколы его кружат
И тело зорко сторожат.
Приходит дева молодая.
Главу его приподнимая,
Целует тихо и светло
Окровавленное чело.
Над мертвым прочитав молитвы,
Его уносит с поля битвы,
И скорбно в землю зарывает,
И на могиле умирает.
Дай, бог, таких нам похорон,
И псов, и соколов, и жен!
Переклад С.Стєпанова
17. Пригадайте, які художні засоби може використовувати автор, характеризуючи персонажа. Перекладіть уривки з текстів, які наведені нижче, та визначте художні засоби.
The human figures which completed this landscape were in number two, partaking, in their dress and appearance, of that wild and rustic character which belonged to the woodlands of the West Riding of Yorkshire at that early period. The eldest of these men had a stern, savage, and wild aspect. His garment was of the simplest form imaginable, being a close jacket with sleeves, composed of the tanned skin of some animal, on which the hair had been originally left, but which had been worm off in so many places that it would have been difficult to distinguish, form the patches that remained, to what creature the fur belonged. This primeval vestment reached from the throat to the knees, and served at once all the usual purposes of bodyclothing; there was no wider opening at the collar than was necessary to admit the passage of the head, from which it may be inferred that it was put on by slipping it over the head and shoulders, in the manner of a modern shirt, or ancient hauberk. Sandals, bound with thongs made of boar's hide, protected the feen, and a roll of thin leather was twined artificially round the legs, and ascending above the calf, left the knees bare, like those of a Scottish Highlander. To make the jacket sit yet more close to the body, it was gatnered at the middle by a broad leathern belt, secured by a brass buckle; to one side of which was attached a sort of scrip, and to the other aram's horn, accoutred with amouthpiece, for the purpose of blowing. In the same belt was stuck one of those long, broad, sharp-pointed, and twoedged knives, with a buck's-horn handle, which were fabricated in the neighbourhood, and bore even at this early period the name of a Sheffield whittle. The man had no covering upon his head, which was only defended by his own thick hair, matted and twisted together, and scorched by the influence of the sun into a rusty dark-red colour, forming a contrast with the overgrown beard upon his cheeks, which was rather of a yellow or amber hue. One part of his dress only remains, but it is too remarkable to be suppressed; it was a brass ring, resembling a dog's collar, but without any opening, and soldered fast round his neck, so loose as to form no impediment to his breathing, yet so tight as to be incapable of being removed, excepting by the use of the file. On this singular gorget was engraved, in Saxon characters, an insription of the followong purport: «Gurth, the son of Beowulph, is the born thrall of Cedric of Rotherwood».
(W. Scott)
— Thou dost me injustice, — said the Templar. — By eart, sea, and sky, thou dost me injustice! I am not naturally that which you have seen me — hard, selfish, and relentless. It was women that taught me cruelty, and on women therefore I have excercised it; but not upon such as thou. Hear me, Rebecca. Never did knight take lance in his hand with a hear more devoted to the lady of his love that Brian de Bois-Guilbert. She, the daughter of a petty baron, who boasted for all his domains but a ruinous tower and an unproductive vineyard, and some few leagues of the barren Landes of Bourdeaux, her name was known wherever deds of arms were done, known wider than that of many a lady's that had a county for a dowry. Yes, he continued, pacing up and down the little platform, with an animacion in which be seemed to lose all consciousness of Rebecca's presence — yes, my deeds, my danger, my blood made the name of Adelaide de Montemare known from the court of Castile to that of Byzantium. And how was I required? When I returned with my dear-bought honours, purchased by toil and blood, I found her wedded to a Gascon squire, whose name was never heard beyond the limits of his own paltry domain! Truly did I love her, and bitterly did I revenge me of her broken faith!
(W. Scott)
Dombey was about eight-and-forty years of age. Son about eight-and-forty minutes. Dombey was rather bald, rather red, and though a handsome well-made man, too stern and pompous in appearance, to be prepossessing. Son was very bald, and very red, and though (of course) an undeniably fine infant, somewhat crushed and spotty in his general effect, as yet. On the brow of Dombey, Time and his brother Care had set some marks, as on a tree that was to come down in good time — remorseless twins they are for striding through their human forests, notching as they go — while the countenance of Son was crossed with a thousand little creases, which the same deceitful Time would take delight in smoothing out and wearing away with the flat part of his scythe, as a preparation of the surface for his deeper operations.
(Ch. Dickens)
The candles lighted up Lord Steyne's shining bald head, which was fringed with red hair. He had thick bushy eyebrows, with little twinkling bloodshot eyes, surrounded by a thousand wrinkles. His jaw was underhung, and when he laughed, two white buckteeth protruded themselves and glistened savagely in the midst of the grin.
(W.M. Thackeray)
For she could not only sing like a lark, or a Mrs Billington, and dance like Hillisberg or Parisot; and embroider beautifully; and spell as well as a Dixonary itself; but she had such a kindly, smiling, tender, gentle, generous heart of her own, as won the love of everybody who came near her, from Minerva herself down to the poor girl in the scullery and the one-eyed tart-woman's daughter who was permitted to vend her wares once a week to the young ladies in the Mall.
...There is no harm in saying, at the outset of our acquaintance, that she was a dear little creature; and a great mercy it is, both in life and in novels, which (and the latter especially) abound in villains of the most sombre sort, that we are to have for a constant companion so guileless and good-natured a person. As she is not a heroine, there is no need to describe her person; indeed I am afraid that her nose was rather short than otherwise, and her cheeks a great deal too round and red for a heroine; but her face blushed with rosy health, and her lips with the freshest of smiles, and she had a pair of eyes which sparkled with the brightest and honestest good-humour, except indeed when they filled with tears, and that was a great deal too often; for the silly thing would cry over a dead canary-bird; or over a mouse, that the cat haply had seized upon; or over the end of a novel, were it ever so stupid; and as for saying an unkind word to her, were any persons hardhearted enough to do so — why, so much the worse for them.
(W.M. Thackeray)
18. Прочитайте оповідання Е. Хемінгуея «Кішка під дощем». Дайте відповіді на запитання та виконайте завдання:
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Проаналізуйте експозицію твору. Яке значення має художній простір та час дії? Зверніть увагу, як автор від загального опису переходить до цьогохвилинного сюжетного теперішнього. Чи такий перехід сприяє створенню певного настрою?
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Які непрямі деталі оповіді формують враження нудного осіннього дня?
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Яку додаткову інформацію несуть постійно повторювані автором слова «cat», «rain», «I want»?
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Інтерпретуйте назву оповідання. Які приховані узагальнення містить назва?
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В чому полягає глибинний підтекст твору. За допомогою яких засобів він формується?
Ernest Hemingway
Cat in the rain
There were only two Americans at the hotel. They did not know any of the people they passed on the stairs to their room. Their room was on the second floor facing the sea. It also faced the public garden and the war monument. There were big palms and green benches in the public garden. In the good weather there was always an artist with his easel. Artists liked the way the palms grew and the bright colours of the hotels facing the gardens and the sea. Italians came from a long way off to look up at the war monument. It was made of bronze and glistened in the rain. It was raining. The rain dripped from the palm trees. Water stood in pools on the gravel paths. The sea broke in a long line in the rain and slipped back down the beach to come up and break again in a long line in the rain.
The motor-cars were gone from the square by the war monument. Across the square in the doorway of the cafe a waiter stood looking out at the empty square.
The American wife stood at the window looking out. Outside right under their window a cat was crouched under one of the dripping green tables. The cat was trying to make herself so compact that she would not be dripped on.
"I'm going down and get that kitty," the American wife said.
"I'll do it," her husband offered from the bed.
'No, I'll get it. The poor kitty out trying to keep dry under a table.'
The husband went on reading, lying propped up with the two pillows at the foot of the bed.
"Don't get wet," he said.
The wife went downstairs and the hotel owner stood up and bowed to her as she passed the office. He was an old man and very tall.
"II piove," the wife said. She liked the hotel-keeper.
"Si, si, Signora, brutto tempo. It's very bad weather."
He stood behind his desk in the far end of the dim room. The wife liked him. She liked the deadly serious way he received any complaints. She liked his dignity. She liked the way he wanted to serve her. She liked the way he felt about being a hotel-keeper. She liked his old, heavy face and big hands.
Liking him she opened the door and looked out. It was raining harder. Д man in a rubber cape was crossing the empty square to the cafe. The cat would be around to the right. Perhaps she could go along under the eaves. As she stood in the doorway an umbrella opened behind her. It was the maid who looked after their room.
"You must not get wet," she smiled, speaking Italian. Of course, the hotel-keeper had sent her.
With the maid holding the umbrella over her, she walked along the gravel path until she was under their window. The table was there, washed bright green in the rain, but the cat was gone. She was suddenly disappointed. The maid looked up at her.
"Ha perduto qualque cosa, Signora?"
"There was a cat," said the American girl.
"A cat?"
"Si,ilgatto."
"A cat?" the maid laughed. "A cat in the rain?"
"Yes," she said, "under the table. "Then, "Oh, I wanted it so much. I wanted a kitty."
When she talked English the maid's face tightened.
"Come, Signora," she said. "We must get back inside. You will be wet."
"I suppose so," said the American girl.
They went back along the gravel path and passed in the door. The maid stayed outside to close the umbrella. As the American girl passed the office, the padrone bowed from his desk. Something felt very small and tight inside the girl. The padrone made her feel very small and at the same time really important. She had a momentary feeling of being of supreme importance. She went on up the stairs. She opened the door of the room. George was on the bed, reading.
"Did you get the cat?" he asked, putting the book down.
"It was gone."
"Wonder where it went to?" he said, resting his eyes from reading.
She sat down on the bed.
"I wanted it so much," she said. "I don't know why I wanted it so much. I wanted that poor kitty. It isn't any fun to be a poor kitty out in the rain!"
George was reading again.
She went over and sat in front of the mirror of the dressing-table looking at herself with the hand glass. She studied her profile, first one side and then the other. Then she studied the back of her head and her neck.
"Don't you think it would be a good idea if I let my hair grow out?" she asked, looking at her profile again.
George looked up and saw the back of her neck, clipped close like a boy's.
"I like it the way it is."
"I get so tired of it," she said. "I get so tired of looking like a boy."
George shifted his position in the bed. He hadn't looked away from her since she started to speak.
"You look pretty darn nice," he said.
She laid the mirror down on the dresser and went over to the window and looked out. It was getting dark.
"I want to pull my hair back tight and smooth and make a big knot at the back that I can feel," she said. "I want to have a kitty to sit on my lap and pun-when I stroke her."
"Yeah?" George said from the bed.
"And I want to eat at a table with my own silver and I want candles. And I want it to be spring and I want to brush my hair out in front of a mirror and I want a kitty and I want some new clothes."
"Oh, shut up and get something to read," George said. He was reading again.
His wife was looking out of the window. It was quite dark now and still raining in the palm trees
"Anyway, I want a cat," she said. "I want a cat. I want a cat now. If I can't have long hair or any fun, I can have a cat."
George was not listening. He was reading his book. His wife looked out of the window where the light had come on in the square.
Someone knocked at the door. "Avanti," George said. He looked up from his book.
In the doorway stood the maid. She held a big tortoise-shell cat pressed tight against her and swung down against her body.
"Excuse me," she said, "the padrone asked me to bring this for the Signora."
19. Проаналізуйте вірш Дж. Г. Байрона «Моєму синові». Дайте відповіді на запитання та виконайте завдання:
1. Яке значення має назва вірша? Чи сприяє вона створенню певного очікування від твору? Чи можлива автобіографічна інтерпретація даної поезії? Що відомо вам про сина Байрона?
2. Як змальовується у вірші портрет дитини? Наведіть портретні деталі, визначте їх функції?
3. Визначте засоби характеристики ліричного героя. Якими є особливості його світовідчуття?
4. Якими додатковими мотивами супроводжується у вірші тема батьківства?
5.Визначте часо-просторову структуру вірша? Які просторові образи з`являються у творі? Яким зображується світське середовище?
6. За допомогою яких засобів у вірші відтворюється образ померлої коханої ліричного героя?
George Gordon Byron
To My Son
Those flaxen locks, those eyes of blue Bright as thy mother’s in their hue; Those rosy lips, whose dimples play And smile to steal the heart away, Recall a scene of former joy, And touch thy father’s heart, my Boy! And thou canst lisp a father’s name – Ah, William, were thine own the same, – No self-reproach – but, let me cease – My care for thee shall purchase peace; Thy mother’s shade shall smile in joy, And pardon all the past, my Boy! Her lowly grave the turf has prest, And thou hast known a stranger’s breast; Derision sneers upon thy birth, And yields thee scarce a name on earth; Yet shall not these one hope destroy, – A Father’s heart is thine, my Boy! Why, let the world unfeeling frown, Must I fond Nature’s claims disown? Ah, no – though moralists reprove, I hail thee, dearest child of Love, Fair cherub, pledge of youth and joy – A Father guards thy birth, my Boy! Oh,’twill be sweet in thee to trace, Ere Age has wrinkled o’er my face, Ere half my glass of life is run, At once a brother and a son; And all my wane of years employ In justice done to thee, my Boy! Although so young thy heedless sire, Youth will not damp parental fire; And, wert thou still less dear to me, While Helen’s form revives in thee, The breast, which beat to former joy, Will ne’er desert its pledge, my Boy!