Натаниель Готорн - Дом о семи шпилях

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Дом о семи шпилях
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Натаниель Готорн
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Натаниель Готорн - Дом о семи шпилях краткое содержание

Дом о семи шпилях - описание и краткое содержание, автор Натаниель Готорн, читайте бесплатно онлайн на сайте электронной библиотеки LibKing.Ru

Натаниель Готорн — классик американской литературы. Его произведения отличает тесная взаимосвязь прошлого и настоящего, реальности и фантастики. По признанию критиков, Готорн имеет много общего с Эдгаром По.
«Дом с семью шпилями» — один из самых известных романов писателя. Старый полковник Пинчон, прибывший в Новую Англию вместе с первыми поселенцами, несправедливо обвиняет плотника Моула, чтобы заполучить его землю. Моула ведут на эшафот, но перед смертью он проклинает своего убийцу. С тех пор над домом полковника тяготеет проклятие.
Дом о семи фронтонах — реально существующее в
здание XVII века. В середине XIX века Готорн часто приходил сюда в гости к хозяйке дома — своей двоюродной сестре Сюзанне. Впрочем, к тому времени здание было перестроено так, что из семи фронтонов сохранились только три.
Сам автор отрицал наличие реального прототипа у дома, описанного в романе. Одним из источников вдохновения для него служила немецкая повесть «
», в которой моральное разложение горделивого семейства отражается в упадке дряхлого замка их предков.
До написания романа Готорна не оставляло чувство вины за своих фанатичных предков, которые принимали активное участие в печально известной охоте на ведьм 1692-1693 гг.Темы вины и искупления, поднимаемые этим произведением, звучат и в предыдущем романе Готорна — «
». Оба романа имели большой успех и в Америке, и в Европе, превратив Готорна в наиболее известного американского беллетриста своего времени.

Дом о семи шпилях - читать онлайн бесплатно ознакомительный отрывок

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Странно, однако, что джентльмен, славившийся своей пунктуальностью, так задержался в старом пустом доме, который он, по-видимому, никогда не любил посещать.

This was to have been such a busy day!	В этот день он должен был сделать много дел.
In the first place, the interview with Clifford.	Во-первых повидаться с Клиффордом.
Half an hour, by the judge's reckoning, was to suffice for that; it would probably be less, but-taking into consideration that Hepzibah was first to be dealt with, and that these woman are apt to make many words where a few would do much better-it might be safest to allow half an hour.	По расчету судьи на это нужно было полчаса, но, принимая в соображение, что он сперва должен переговорить с Гепзибой, он заложил на это час.
Half an hour?	А между тем он сидел уже два часа по собственному его хронометру.
Why, judge, it is already two hours by your own undeviating accurate chronometer!	Время как будто вдруг потеряло для него всякое значение.
Glance your eye down at it, and see! Ah! he will not give himself the trouble either to bend his head, or elevate his hand, so as to bring the faithful timekeeper within his range of vision! Time, all at once, appears to have become a matter of no moment with the judge! And has he forgotten all the other items of his memoranda?	Неужели он позабыл обо всех своих планах на этот день?
Clifford's affair arranged, he was to meet a State Street broker, who has undertaken to procure a heavy percentage, and the best of paper, for a few loose thousands which the judge happens to have by him uninvested. The wrinkled noteshaver will have taken his railroad trip in vain. Half an hour later, in the street next to this, there was to be an auction of real estate, including a portion of the old Pyncheon property, originally belonging to Maule's garden-ground. It has been alienated from the Pyncheons these fourscore years; but the judge had kept it in his eye, and had set his heart on reannexing to the small demesne still left around the seven gables-and now, during this odd fit of oblivion, the fatal hammer must have fallen, and transferred our ancient patrimony to some alien possessor! Possibly, indeed, the sale may have been postponed till fairer weather. If so, will the judge make it convenient to be present and favor the auctioneer with his bid on the proximate occasion?	Окончив дела с Клиффордом, он намерен был повидаться с маклером, потом успеть на аукцион, где должна была продаваться часть земли, относившейся некогда к Дому с семью шпилями и являвшейся частью собственности старого колдуна Моула.

The next affair was to buy a horse for his own driving. The one heretofore his favorite stumbled this very morning on the road to town, and must be at once discarded. Judge Pyncheon's neck is too precious to be risked on such a contingency as a stumbling steed. Should all the above business be seasonably got through with, he might attend the meeting of a charitable society; the very name of which, however, in the multiplicity of his benevolence, is quite forgotten; so that this engagement may pass unfulfilled, and no great harm done. And if he have time, amid the press of more urgent matters, he must take measures for the renewal of Mrs. Pyncheon's tombstone, which the sexton tells him has fallen on its marble face, and is cracked quite in twain.	Далее он должен был купить коня, которым сам хотел править в кабриолете; потом хотел посетить намогильный памятник миссис Пинчон: он узнал от каменщика, что лицевая сторона его обрушилась и сам камень готов был распасться надвое.
She was a praiseworthy woman enough, thinks the judge, in spite of her nervousness, and the tears that she was so oozy with, and her foolish behavior about the coffee; and as she took her departure so seasonably, he will not grudge the second tombstone. It is better, at least, than if she had never needed any!	Она была достойной женщиной - так думал судья, - несмотря на свою нервозность, и он не пожалеет денег на новый памятник.
The next item on his list was to give orders for some fruit trees, of a rare variety, to be deliverable at his country-seat in the ensuing autumn. Yes, buy them by all means, and may the peaches be luscious in your mouth, Judge Pyncheon! After this comes something more important. A committee of his political party has besought him for a hundred or two of dollars, in addition to his previous disbursement, towards carrying on the fall campaign. The judge is a patriot; the fate of the country is staked on the November election; and besides, as will be shadowed forth in another paragraph, he has no trifling stake of his own in the same great game. He will do what the committee asks; nay, he will be liberal beyond their expectations; they shall have a cheque for five hundred dollars, and more anon, if it be needed.	Затем он собирался выписать для своего сада редкие фруктовые деревья, а после этого пообедать со своими друзьями-политиками и решить один весьма важный вопрос.

What next? A decayed widow, whose husband was Judge Pyncheon's early friend, has laid her case of destitution before him in a very moving letter. She and her fair daughter have scarcely bread to eat. He partly intends to call on her today-perhaps so-perhaps not-accordingly as he may happen to have leisure and a small bank note. Another business, which, however, he puts no great weight on (it is well, you know, to be heedful, but not over anxious, as respects one's personal health), another business, then, was to consult his family physician. About what, for Heaven's sake? Why, it is rather difficult to describe the symptoms. A mere dimness of sight and dizziness of brain, was it?-or a disagreeable choking, or stifling, or gurgling, or bubbling, in the region of the thorax, as the anatomists say?-or was it a pretty severe throbbing and kicking of the heart, rather creditable to him than otherwise, as showing that the organ had not been left out of the judge's physical contrivance? No matter what it was. The doctor probably would smile at the statement of such trifles to his professional ear; the judge would smile in his turn; and meeting one another's eyes, they would enjoy a hearty laugh together! But a fig for medical advice! The judge will never need it! Pray, pray, Judge Pyncheon, look at your watch, now! What-not a glance!

Наконец, судья намеревался позвать к себе по какому-то делу вдову одного друга своих ранних лет, терпевшую крайнюю бедность. Впрочем, он мог это сделать или не сделать в зависимости от того, найдется ли у него несколько свободных минут.

It is within ten minutes of the dinner-hour! It surely cannot have slipped your memory that the dinner of today is to be the most important in its consequences of all the dinners you ever ate. Yes, precisely the most important; although in the course of your somewhat eminent career, you have been placed high towards the head of the table at splendid banquets, and have poured out your festive eloquence to ears yet echoing with Webster's mighty organ-tones. No public dinner this, however. It is merely a gathering of some dozen or so of friends from several districts of the state; men of distinguished character and influence, assembling, almost casually, at the house of a common friend, likewise distinguished, who will make them welcome to a little better than his ordinary fare. Nothing in the way of French cookery, but an excellent dinner, nevertheless! Real turtle, we understand, and salmon, tautog, canvasbacks, pig, English mutton, good roast beef, or dainties of that serious kind, fit for substantial country gentlemen, as these honorable persons mostly are. The delicacies of the season, in short, and flavored by a brand of old Madeira which has been the pride of many seasons. It is the Juno brand; a glorious wine, fragrant, and full of gentle might; a bottled-up happiness, put by for use; a golden liquid, worth more than liquid gold; so rare and admirable, that veteran wine-bibbers count it among their epochs to have tasted it! It drives away the heartache, and substitutes no head-ache! Could the judge but quaff a glass, it might enable him to shake off the unaccountable lethargy which (for the ten intervening minutes, and five to boot, are already past) has made him such a laggard at this momentous dinner. It would all but revive a dead man! Would you like to sip it now, Judge Pyncheon? Alas, this dinner! Have you really forgotten its true object? Then let us whisper it, that you may start at once out of the oaken chair, which really seems to be enchanted, like the one in Comus, or that in which Moll Pitcher imprisoned your own grandfather. But ambition is a talisman more powerful than witchcraft. Start up, then, and, hurrying through the streets, burst in upon the company, that they may begin before the fish is spoiled! They wait for you; and it is little for your interest that they should wait.

Между тем оставалось всего десять минут до обеда. А этот обед был очень важен.

These gentlemen-need you be told it?-have assembled, not without purpose, from every quarter of the state. They are practiced politicians, every man of them, and skilled to adjust those preliminary measures which steal from the people, without its knowledge, the power of choosing its own rulers. The popular voice at the next gubernatorial election, though loud as thunder, will be really but an echo of what these gentleman shall speak, under their breath, at your friend's festive board.

Недаром на него съехались самые влиятельные политики со всего штата.

They meet to decide upon their candidate. This little knot of subtle schemers will control the convention, and through it dictate to the party. And what worthier candidate-more wise and learned, more noted for philanthropic liberality, truer to safe principles, tried oftener by public trusts, more spotless in private character, with a larger stake in the common welfare, and deeper grounded, by hereditary descent, in the faith and practice of the Puritans-what man can be presented for the suffrage of the people, so eminently combining all these claims to the chief-rulership as Judge Pyncheon here before us? Make haste, then! Do your part! The meed for which you have toiled, and fought, and climbed, and crept, is ready for your grasp! Be present at this dinner!-drink a glass or two of that noble wine!-make your pledges in as low a whisper as you will!-and you rise up from table virtually governor of the glorious old state! Governor Pyncheon, of Massachusetts! And is there no potent and exhilarating cordial in a certainty like this? It has been the grand purpose of half your lifetime to obtain it. Now, when there needs little more than to signify your acceptance, why do you sit so lumpishly in your great-great-grandfather's oaken chair, as if preferring it to the gubernatorial one? We have all heard of King Log; but, in these jostling times, one of that royal kindred will hardly win the race for an elective chief magistracy.	Они собрались в доме одного из друзей, тоже великого политика, для решения важного вопроса, кого назначить кандидатом в губернаторы к предстоящим выборам.
Well! it is absolutely too late for dinner! Turtle, salmon, tautog, woodcock, boiled turkey, South-Down mutton, pig, roast beef, have vanished, or exist only in fragments, with lukewarm potatoes, and gravies crusted over with cold fat. The judge, had he done nothing else, would have achieved wonders with his knife and fork. It was he, you know, of whom it used to be said, in reference to his ogre-like appetite, that his Creator made him a great animal, but that the dinner-hour made him a great beast. Persons of his large sensual endowments must claim indulgence, at their feeding-time. But, for once, the judge is entirely too late for dinner! Too late, we fear, even to join the party at their wine!	Но уже было слишком поздно.
The guests are warm and merry; they have given up the judge; and, concluding that the free-soilers have him, they will fix upon another candidate.	Г ости наверняка теперь назначат не судью, а другого кандидата.
Were our friend now to stalk in among them, with that wide-open stare, at once wild and stolid, his ungenial presence would be apt to change their cheer.	Но если бы наш приятель явился теперь к ним со своими широко открытыми глазами, диким и неподвижным взглядом, его страшный вид в одно мгновение прогнал бы их веселость.
Neither would it be seemly in Judge Pyncheon, generally so scrupulous in his attire, to show himself at a dinner-table with that crimson stain upon his shirt-bosom.	Тем более странно было бы, если бы Пинчон, всегда столь опрятный, пришел к ним с этим красным пятном на манишке.

By the by, how came it there? It is an ugly sight at any rate, and the wisest way for the judge is to button his coat closely over his breast, and, taking his horse and chaise from the livery stable, to make all speed to his own house. There, after a glass of brandy and water, and a mutton chop, a beef steak, a broiled fowl, or some such hasty little dinner and supper all in one, he had better spend the evening by the fireside. He must toast his slippers a long while, in order to get rid of the chilliness which the air of this vile old house has sent curdling through his veins.	Откуда оно взялось?
Up, therefore, Judge Pyncheon, up! You have lost a day.	Как бы там ни было, во всяком случае день для Пинчона потерян!
But tomorrow will be here anon. Will you rise, betimes, and make the most of it? Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Tomorrow! We that are alive may rise betimes tomorrow. As for him that has died today, his morrow will be the resurrection morn.	Вероятно, он встанет завтра рано? Завтра? Но наступит ли для него это завтра?
Meanwhile, the twilight is glooming upward out of the corners of the room.	Между тем в комнате становится все темнее.
The shadows of the tall furniture grow deeper, and at first become more definite; then, spreading wider, they lose their distinctness of outline in the dark gray tide of oblivion, as it were, that creeps slowly over the various objects, and the one human figure sitting in the midst of them.	Очертания массивной мебели как будто расплываются в серых сумерках, которые мало-помалу окрашивают разные предметы и сидящую среди них человеческую фигуру.
The gloom has not entered from without; it has brooded here all day, and now, taking its own inevitable time, will possess itself of everything.	Темнота эта происходит не извне, она таилась здесь целый день и теперь, дождавшись своего часа, распространилась по всему дому.
The judge's face, indeed, rigid and singularly white, refuses to melt into this universal solvent. Fainter and fainter grows the light. It is as if another double-handful of darkness had been scattered through the air. Now it is no longer gray but sable. There is still a faint appearance at the window; neither a glow, nor a gleam, nor a glimmer-any phrase of light would express something far brighter than this doubtful perception, or sense, rather, that there is a window there. Has it yet vanished? No!-yes!-not quite!-And there is still the swarthy whiteness-we shall venture to marry these ill-agreeing words-the swarthy whiteness of Judge Pyncheon's face. The features are all gone; there is only the paleness of them left. And how looks it now? There is no window! There is no face! An infinite inscrutable blackness has annihilated sight! Where is our universe? All crumbled away from us, and we, adrift in chaos, may hearken to the gusts of homeless wind, that go sighing and murmuring about in quest of what was once a world!	Правда, лицо судьи, суровое и странно бледное, еще виднеется в воцарившемся сумраке. Наконец становится не видно никакого окна, никакого лица. Непроглядная, беспредельная темнота все уничтожила. Куда же делся наш мир? Он разрушился, он исчез у нас из виду, и мы посреди хаоса слышим только свист и завывание бесприютного ветра.
Is there no other sound? One other, and a fearful one.	Неужели не слышно больше никаких звуков?

It is the ticking of the judge's watch, which ever since Hepzibah left the room in search of Clifford, he has been holding in his hand.	Слышны ужасные - а именно тиканье часов, которые судья держит в руке в тех пор, как Гепзиба ушла позвать Клиффорда.
Be the cause what it may, this little, quiet, never-ceasing throb of Time's pulse repeating its small strokes with such busy regularity, in Judge Pyncheon's motionless hand, has an effect of terror, which we do not find in any other accompaniment of the scene.	Эти маленькие, спокойные, никогда не останавливающиеся удары пульса времени в оцепенелой руке судьи Пинчона ужасают своей регулярностью.

But listen! That puff of the breeze was louder; it had a tone unlike the dreary and sullen one which has bemoaned itself, and afflicted all mankind with miserable sympathy, for five days past. The wind has veered about! It now comes boisterously from the north-west and, taking hold of the aged framework of the seven gables, gives it a shake, like a wrestler that would try strength with his antagonist. Another and another sturdy tussle with the blast! The old house creaks again, and makes a vociferous but somewhat unintelligible bellowing in its sooty throat (the big flue, we mean, of its wide chimney) partly in complaint at the rude wind, but rather, as befits their century and a half of hostile intimacy, in tough defiance. A rumbling kind of a bluster roars behind the fire-board. A door has slammed above-stairs. A window, perhaps, has been left open, or else is driven in by an unruly gust. It is not to be conceived beforehand, what wonderful wind-instruments are these old timber mansions, and how haunted with the strangest noises, which immediately begin to sing, and sigh, and sob, and shriek-and to smite with sledge-hammers, airy, but ponderous, in some distant chamber-and to tread along the entries as with stately footsteps, and rustle up and down the staircase, as with silks miraculously stiff-whenever the gale catches the house with a window open, and gets fairly into it. Would that we were not an attendant spirit here! It is too awful! This clamour of the wind through the lonely house; the judge's quietude, as he sits invisible; and that pertinacious ticking of his watch! As regards Judge Pyncheon's invisibility, however, that matter will soon be remedied. The north-west wind has swept the sky clear. The window is distinctly seen. Through its panes, moreover, we dimly catch the sweep of the dark, clustering foliage, outside, fluttering with a constant irregularity of movement, and letting in a peep of starlight, now here, now there. Oftener than any other object, these glimpses illuminate the judge's face. But here comes more effectual light. Observe that silvery dance upon the upper branches of the pear tree, and now a little lower, and now on the whole mass of boughs, while, through their shifting intricacies, the moonbeams fall aslant into the room. They play over the judge's figure, and show that he has not stirred throughout the hours of darkness.

Как завывает ветер! В эту ночь он разгулялся по дому, как музыкант, играющий на невидимых инструментах. Но посмотрите, как странно озарилась вдруг комната с застывшей в ней фигурой лучами месяца, который появился на небе.

They follow the shadows, in changeful sport, across his unchanging features. They gleam upon his watch.

Эти лучи освещают бледные, неподвижные черты лица судьи и сверкают на часах.

His grasp conceals the dial-plate; but we know that the faithful hands have met; for one of the city clocks tells midnight. A man of sturdy understanding, like Judge Pyncheon, cares no more for twelve o'clock at night than for the corresponding hour of noon. However just the parallel drawn, in some of the preceding pages, between his Puritan ancestor and himself, it fails in this point. The Pyncheon of two centuries ago, in common with most of his contemporaries, professed his full belief in spiritual ministrations, although reckoning them chiefly of a malignant character. The Pyncheon of tonight, who sits in yonder armchair, believes in no such nonsense. Such at least was his creed some few hours since. His hair will not bristle, therefore, at the stories which-in times when chimney-corners had benches in them, where old people sat poking into the ashes of the past, and raking out traditions like live coals-used to be told about this very room of his ancestral house.	Циферблат не виден под его рукой, но городские часы уже пробили полночь.
In fact these tales are too absurd to bristle even childhood's hair.	Об этом времени ходят разные истории, правда, они так нелепы, что не ужаснули бы и ребенка.
What sense, meaning, or moral, for example, such as even ghost stories should be susceptible of, can be traced in the ridiculous legend, that, at midnight, all the dead Pyncheons are bound to assemble in this parlour?	Какой, например, смысл заключается в странной сказке, что будто бы в полночь все Пинчоны собирались в этой комнате?
And pray for what?	И для чего же?
Why, to see whether the portrait of their ancestor still keeps its place upon the wall, in compliance with his testamentary directions!	Для того чтобы посмотреть, на своем ли месте висит портрет их предка на стене, согласно его завещанию!
Is it worth while to come out of their graves for that?	Стоило ли для этого покойникам вставать из могил?
We are tempted to make a little sport with the idea. Ghost stories are hardly to be treated seriously any longer.	Нам хочется ненадолго остановиться на этой идее.
The family party of the defunct Pyncheons, we presume, goes off in this wise.	Семейство покойных Пинчонов, по нашему мнению, должно было собираться в таком порядке.
First comes the ancestor himself, in his black cloak, steeple-hat, and trunk-breeches, girt about the waist with a leathern belt, in which hangs his steel-hilted sword; he has a long staff in his hand such as gentlemen in advanced life used to carry, as much for the dignity of the thing as for the support to be derived from it.	Сперва являлся сам предок, в своем черном плаще и со шпагой на поясе; в руке у него длинный посох, какие пожилые джентльмены носили в старые времена.
He looks up at the portrait-a thing of no substance, gazing at its own painted image!	Он смотрит на портрет.
All is safe.	Портрет остался неприкосновенным.

The picture is still there. The purpose of his brain has been kept sacred thus long after the man himself sprouted up in graveyard grass.	Он висит на том же месте, где был повешен при жизни полковника.
See! he lifts his ineffectual hand, and tries the frame.	Глядите, угрюмый старик протянул свою руку и пробует раму.
All safe!	Она неподвижна.
But is that a smile?-is it not rather, a frown of deadly import, that darkens over the shadow of his features?	Но это не улыбка на его лице. Это скорее выражение сильного неудовольствия.
The stout colonel is dissatisfied!	Полковник недоволен неподвижностью рамы.
So decided is his look of discontent as to impart additional distinctness to his features; through which, nevertheless, the moonlight passes, and flickers on the wall beyond.	Это хорошо заметно при свете месяца, который, озаряя его мрачные черты, освещает вместе с тем и часть стены, на которой висит портрет.
Something has strangely vexed the ancestor! With a grim shake of the head he turns away.	Что-то очень сильно огорчило предка Пинчонов, он отошел в сторону, сердито покачивая головой.
Here come other Pyncheons, the whole tribe, in their half-a-dozen generations, jostling and elbowing one another to reach the picture.	Вслед за ним появлялись другие Пинчоны, толкая друг друга, чтобы пробраться к портрету.
We behold aged men and grandames, a clergyman with the Puritanic stiffness still in his garb and mien, and a red-coated officer of the old French war; and there comes the shopkeeping Pyncheon of a century ago, with the ruffles turned back from his wrists, and there the periwigged and brocaded gentleman of the artist's legend, with the beautiful and pensive Alice, who brings no pride out of her virgin grave.	Мы видим стариков и старушек, видим духовную особу с пуританской жесткостью во взгляде и офицера в красном кафтане. Вот и Пинчон, торговавший в лавочке сто лет тому назад, с кружевными манжетами; а вот, в парике и в парчовом кафтане, джентльмен из легенды художника вместе с прелестной и задумчивой Элис, которая тоже встала из гроба.
All try the picture-frame.	Все они пробуют раму портрета.
What do these ghostly people seek?	Чего ищут все эти привидения?
A mother lifts her child that his little hands may touch it!	Мать поднимает к портрету своего ребенка, чтобы и он потрогал раму своими крошечными ручонками.
There is evidently a mystery about the picture, that perplexes these poor Pyncheons, when they ought to be at rest.	Очевидно, в этом портрете заключается какая-нибудь тайна, которая нарушает могильное спокойствие Пинчонов.
In a corner, meanwhile, stands the figure of an elderly man, in a leather jerkin and breeches, with a carpenter's rule sticking out of his side-pocket; he points his finger at the bearded colonel and his descendants, nodding, jeering, mocking, and finally bursting into obstreperous, though inaudible laughter.	Между тем в одном углу стоит какой-то пожилой человек в кожаной куртке и таких же штанах, с плотницким топором, торчащим из кармана. Он указывает пальцем на бородатого полковника и его потомство, кивая головой и корча страшные гримасы.
Indulging our fancy in this freak, we have partly lost the power of restraint and guidance.	Дав свободу своей фантазии, мы уже не в состоянии удержать ее.
We distinguish an unlooked-for figure in our visionary scene.	Мы замечаем в толпе призраков одну странную фигуру.

Among those ancestral people there is a young man, dressed in the very fashion of today; he wears a dark frockcoat, almost destitute of skirts, gray pantaloons, gaiter boots of patent leather, and has a finely wrought gold chain across his breast, and a little silver-headed whalebone stick in his hand.	Это молодой человек, одетый, согласно современной моде, в черный фрак-сюртук и в серые узкие панталоны, на груди его - изящная цепочка, а в руке - тоненькая трость с серебряным набалдашником.
Were we to meet this figure at noonday, we should greet him as young Jaffrey Pyncheon, the judge's only surviving child, who has been spending the last two years in foreign travel.	Если бы мы встретили эту фигуру при дневном свете, то узнали бы в ней молодого Джеффри Пинчона, единственного сына судьи, который последние два года находился в чужих краях.
If still in life, how comes his shadow hither?	Если он еще жив, то каким образом могла появиться здесь его тень?
If dead, what a misfortune!	Если же он умер, то какое это несчастье!
The old Pyncheon property, together with the great estate acquired by the young man's father, would devolve on whom?	Кому достанется теперь старинная собственность Пинчонов вместе с огромным состоянием, приобретенным отцом молодого человека?
On poor, foolish Clifford, gaunt Hepzibah, and rustic Phoebe!	Бедному, помешанному Клиффорду, сухощавой Гепзибе и маленькой деревенской Фиби!
But another and a greater marvel greets us!	Но нас ожидает еще одно явление.
Can we believe our eyes?	Верить ли своим глазам?
A stout, elderly gentleman has made his appearance; he has an aspect of eminent respectability, wears a black coat and pantaloons, of roomy width, and might be pronounced scrupulously neat in his attire, but for a broad crimson stain across his snowy neckcloth and down his shirt-bosom.	На сцене появился толстый, пожилой джентльмен. Он имеет вид сановитого человека, носит черный фрак и черные панталоны широкого покроя и отличается необыкновенной опрятностью в одежде, но при этом на его белоснежном воротнике видны большие кровавые пятна.
Is it the judge, or no? How can it be Judge Pyncheon?	Судья это или нет?
We discern his figure, as plainly as the flickering moonbeams can show us anything, still seated in the oaken chair!	Судья Пинчон, чью фигуру мы различаем так ясно, как только позволяет нам мерцающий свет месяца, по-прежнему сидит в дубовом кресле.
Be the apparition whose it may, it advances to the picture, seems to seize the frame, tries to peep behind it, and turns away with a frown as black as the ancestral one.	Но кем бы ни был этот призрак, только он приближается к портрету, берется за раму, старается заглянуть за нее и возвращается назад с такими же мрачно нахмуренными бровями, как и предок Пинчонов.
The fantastic scene just hinted at must by no means be considered as forming an actual portion of our story. We were betrayed into this brief extravagance by the quiver of the moonbeams; they dance hand-in-hand with shadows, and are reflected in the looking-glass, which, you are aware, is always a kind of window or doorway into the spiritual world.	Фантастическая сцена, нарисованная нами, никоим образом не должна считаться действительной частью нашего рассказа.
We needed relief, moreover, from our too long and exclusive contemplation on that figure in the chair. This wild wind, too, has tossed our thoughts into strange confusion, but without tearing them away from their one determined center.	Мы должны вернуться к фигуре, сидящей в кресле.

Yonder leaden judge sits immovably upon our soul.	Судья неподвижен.
Will he never stir again?	Неужели он никогда уже не пошевелится?
We shall go mad, unless he stirs!	Но если бы он пошевелился, мы бы точно сошли с ума.
You may the better estimate his quietude by the fearlessness of a little mouse, which sits on its hind legs, in a streak of moonlight, close by Judge Pyncheon's foot, and seems to meditate a journey of exploration over this great black bulk.	Бесстрашная маленькая мышь сидит на задних лапках в лунном свете подле самой ноги судьи Пинчона.
Ha! what has startled the nimble little mouse?	А! Что же это испугало проворную маленькую мышку?
It is the visage of Grimalkin, outside of the window where he appears to have posted himself for a deliberate watch. This Grimalkin has a very ugly look. Is it a cat watching for a mouse, or the devil for a human soul?	Старая кошка, которая смотрит в окно с улицы. У этой кошки очень неприятная физиономия. Кошка ли еще это, подстерегающая мышь?
Would we could scare him from the window!	Вот бы сбросить ее с окошка!
Thank Heaven, the night is well-nigh past! The moonbeams have no longer so silvery a gleam, nor contrast so strongly with the blackness of the shadows among which they fall. They are paler, now; the shadows look gray, not black.	Слава богу, ночь уже очень скоро кончится!
The boisterous wind is hushed.	Порывистый ветер затих.
What is the hour?	Который теперь час?
Ah! the watch has at last ceased to tick for the judge's forgetful fingers neglected to wind it up, as usual, at ten o'clock, being half an hour, or so, before his ordinary bedtime-and it has run down, for the first time in five years.	А! Часы наконец остановились, потому что судья позабыл завести их, по обыкновению, в десять часов вечера.
But the great world-clock of Time still keeps its beat.	Но огромные часы - мир - продолжают свой ход.
The dreary night-for, oh, how dreary seems its haunted waste behind us!-gives place to a fresh, transparent, cloudless morn.	Страшная ночь уступает место свежему, прозрачному, безоблачному утру.
Blessed, blessed radiance!	Благословенное сияние!

The day-beam-even what little of it finds its way into this always dusky parlour-seems part of the universal benediction, annulling evil, and rendering all goodness possible, and happiness attainable. Will Judge Pyncheon now rise up from his chair? Will he go forth and receive the early sunbeams on his brow? Will he begin this new day-which God has smiled upon, and blessed, and given to mankind-will he begin it with better purpose than the many that have been spent amiss? Or are all the deep-laid schemes of yesterday as stubborn in his heart, and as busy in his brain, as ever? In this latter case, there is much to do. Will the judge still insist with Hepzibah on the interview with Clifford? Will he buy a safe, elderly gentleman's horse? Will he persuade the purchaser of the old Pyncheon property to relinquish the bargain in his favor? Will he see his family physician, and obtain a medicine that shall preserve him to be an honor and blessing to his race, until the utmost term of patriarchal longevity? Will Judge Pyncheon, above all, make due apologies to that company of honorable friends, and satisfy them that his absence from the festive board was unavoidable, and so fully retrieve himself in their good opinion that he shall yet be Governor of Massachusetts? And, all these great purposes accomplished, will he walk the streets again, with that dogday smile of elaborate benevolence, sultry enough to tempt flies to come and buzz in it? Or will he after the tomb-like seclusion of the past day and night, go forth a humbled and repentant man, sorrowful, gentle, seeking no profit, shrinking from worldly honor, hardly daring to love God, but bold to love his fellow-man, and do him what good he may? Will he bear about with him-no odious grin of feigned benignity, insolent in its pretense, and loathsome in its falsehood-but the tender sadness of a contrite heart, broken, at last, beneath its own weight of sin? For it is our belief, whatever show of honor he may have piled upon it, that there was heavy sin at the base of this man's being. Rise up, Judge Pyncheon! The morning sunshine glimmers through the foliage, and, beautiful and holy as it is, shuns not to kindle up your face. Rise up, thou subtle, worldly, selfish, iron-hearted hypocrite, and make thy choice whether still to be subtle, worldly, selfish, iron-hearted, and hypocritical, or to tear these sins out of thy nature, though they bring the life-blood with them! The Avenger is upon thee! Rise up, before it be too late! What! Thou art not stirred by this last appeal? No, not a jot!