Базовый курс английского языка - Эккерсли К.Э.
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HARCOURT: Five to one!
MAUNSELL: Here in this room.
HARCOURT: I don't bet, sir.
MAUNSELL: A pity.
HARCOURT: If I did, I'd bet you a hundred sovereigns-that it does. MAUNSELL: A pretty sum! Couldn't the landlord introduce us? HARCOURT: I'll trouble you, sir, not to joke on this matter. If there's one word of truth in the rumour you're spreading, a shadow lies over England. The dawn of peace is being blotted out...
MAUNSELL: That's a matter of opinion, sir.
HARCOURT: Opinion, sir!
MAUNSELL: Charles was a gay prince. He should be alive, to keep the Roundheads on their toes.
HARCOURT: Treason, I say!
LANDLORD: Now, gentlemen-
HARCOURT: A sword.
LANDLORD: Sir Edgar!
MAUNSELL (putting up his hand): One moment, sir. If you want to do me an injury... why not rob me of five hundred sovereigns? HARCOURT: Five hundred...
MAUNSELL (quietly): I'll take your bet... at the terms I offered. HARCOURT: I've already told you-
MAUNSELL: I am a poor man. I'd feel five hundred more than your sword.
(There is a slight pause.)
HARCOURT; You would, sir?
¦ 580
(Harcourt faces Maunsell.)
Very well, then. I'll not rob you of five hundred. I'll rob you of five thousand.
LANDLORD: Five thousand...
HARCOURT: I'll bet you a thousand sovereigns to five... that Charles Stuart is dead.
LANDLORD: Sir Edgar, I beg you -
HARCOURT: Keep out of this, Henry! (He turns to Maunsell.) You hear me, sir? One thousand sovereigns to five that Charles Stuart is dead.
MAUNSELL: I hear you, sir. (After a pause.) There is one small point. How will the bet be decided?
HARCOURT: In this way. If Charles Stuart is not proved alive in a fortnight, he will be taken as dead.
MAUNSELL: If Charles is not proved alive in a fortnight, he will be taken as dead.
HARCOURT: Is that clear?
MAUNSELL: Quite clear.
HARCOURT: Is the bet taken?
(There is a slight pause.)
MAUNSELL: Taken.
(There is a moment's silence. The two men standfacing each other.)
HARCOURT: My name is Edgar Harcourt. My address is Cheveley Manor, Devizes. I shall return there tomorrow.
MAUNSELL: I am Philip Maunsell. I live at seventeen High Holbom in the City of London. I am at your service.
HARCOURT: Landlord, you are witness to this bet.
LANDLORD: But, gentlemen, I beg ...
VOICE (from the parlour): In the name of the Parliament of England ... silence for a proclamation from Hampton Court.
HARCOURT: What the devil-
VOICE: Given under the hand of Oliver Cromwell, Commander-in-Chief of the Puritan Forces.
(The sound of voices dies to a murmur.)
581 ¦
HARCOURT: Open those doors.
(The Landlord moves up and opens the doors.)
SERGEANT TRYON: "Wanted-Mr. Stuart."
HARCOURT (below his breath):... Dear heaven ...
SERGEANT: "Although it is commonly accepted that Charles Stuart, Leader of the Royalist Forces, was cut down and left for dead on the field of VNbrcester, a measure of doubt now exists. Evidence has been received that Mr. Stuart crossed the Severn on the night of September 3 and was seen two days later in the Town of Ludlow. Mr. Stuart may be at large or in hiding in the counties of Worcester, Shropshire, Hereford or Oxford.
"For his capture or information leading to it, a reward of one thousand pounds. For hiding his whereabouts or helping his escape, the penalty of death.
"Given under our seal.
" H ampton Court.
"September 9th, 1651."
HARCOURT (slowly): It isn't possible ... it can't be ...
SERGEANT: Corporals Britton and Fox, search the inn. HARCOURT: At large or in hiding ...
LANDLORD (hastily): Excuse me, gentlemen.
MAUNSELL: Close the doors.
(The Landlord goes out, closing the doors. There is a moment's pause.)
One thousand sovereigns...
HARCOURT: Nothing is proved, I tell you!
MAUNSELL: Nothing yet.
HARCOURT: It's a trick, a Royalist plot...
MAUNSELL: No doubt.
HARCOURT: It'll break down, they'll have to confess. MAUNSELL: Shall we increase the bet?
HARCOURT: We'll increase nothing ...
(Robert enters.)
MAUNSELL: Ah, waiter, a drink.
ROBERT: Glass of wine, sir?
MAUNSELL: Two glasses.
¦ 582
HARCOURT (to Robert): What's-what's happening in there?
ROBERT: They're searching the inn, sir.
HARCOURT: This inn?
ROBERT: Yes, sir.
HARCOURT: Do they imagine he's here?
ROBERT: They're searching every inn in the country.
HARCOURT: Satan, don't they know what the man looks like? He wears a full-bottomed wig, a moustache no gentleman would dare, has black eyes, and sunken cheeks-you could pick him out of a thousand. And they're looking for him here?
ROBERT: Yes, sir.
HARCOURT: Well, tell 'em they're mad! Mad, d'ye hear me? If they want Charles Stuart, they'll have to dig for him.
ROBERT: Yes, sir.
MAUNSELL: And bring two glasses of wine.
(Robert goes out.)
HARCOURT: Completely mad...
MAUNSELL (after a pause): You know, Sir Edgar, it wouldn't be out of the question to shave off that moustache.
HARCOURT: Let him shave it!
MAUNSELL: Or to remove a full-bottomed wig.
HARCOURT: Remove it!
MAUNSELL: It would make a difference.
HARCOURT: He can't change his face.
