Практический курс английского языка - Камянова Т.
ISBN 5-85550-177-9
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Not only did his courage make him a hero, but also his great sense of responsibility.
5.2. Если главная часть сложноподчиненного предложения начинается наречием scarcely (едва, как только) или hardly (с союзом when в придаточном предложении), или сочетанием по sooner (с союзом than в придаточном предложении):
e.g. Hardly (scarcely) had he arrived in Moscow when he found a well-paid job. Едва он приехал в Москву, как нашел высокооплачиваемую работу. No sooner had this book appeared than it was completely sold out. He успела выйти эта книга, как она была полностью распродана.
b) Конструкция had better do smth совпадает по значению с модальным глаголом ?hould (для выражения совета или рекомендации). Она употребляется в утвердительной и отрицательной форме в значении настоящего или будущего времени во всех лицах с глаголом в инфинитиве без частицы to. Часто используется сокращенная форма (I'd better (not), he'd better (not), etc):
e.g. I had better join my colleagues. (I'd better join my colleagues). Мне бы лучше присоединиться к моим коллегам. You had better not say that. (You'd better not say that). Вам бы лучше не говорить этого.
c) Конструкция would rather do smth имеет значение предпочтения и может употребляться с союзом than. Часто используется в сокращенной форме: I'd rather (not), he'd rather (not).
e.g. Would you rather have tea or coffee?
I would rather agree with colleagues than argue with them. (I'd rather agree... than ...). Я бы скорее согласился с коллегами, чем спорил с ними.
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* PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MAN
(by James Joyce)
Chapter V (extracts)
* * *
Towards dawn he awoke. O what sweet music! His sou! was all dewy wet. Over his limbs in sleep pale cool waves of light had passed. He lay still, as if his soul lay amid cool waters, conscious of faint sweet music. His mind was waking slowly to a tremulous morning knowledge, a morning inspiration. A spirit filled him, pure as a purest water, sweet as dew, moving as music. But how faintly it was inbreathed, how passionlessly, as if the seraphim themselves were breathing upon him! His soul was waking slowly, fearing to awake wholy. It was that windless hour of dawn when madness wakes and strange plants open to the light and the moth flies forth silently.
An enchantment of the heart! The night had been enchanted. In a dream or vision he had known the ecstasy of seraphic life. Was it an instant of enchantment only or long hours and days and years and ages?
The instant of inspiration seemed now to be reflected from all sides at once from a multitude of cloudy circumstance of what had happened or of what might have happened. The instant flashed forth like a point of light and now from cloud on cloud of vague circumstance confused form was veiling softly its afterglow. O! In the virgin womb of the imagination the word was made flesh. Gabriel the seraph had come to the virgin's chamber. An afterglow deepened within his spirit, whence the white flame had passed, deepening to a rose and ardent light. That rose and ardent light was her strange wilful heart, strange that no man had known or would know, wilful from before the beginning of the world: and lured by that ardent roselike glow the choirs of the seraphim were falling from haaven.
Are you not weary of ardent ways, Lure of the fallen seraphim? Tell no more of enchanted days.
The verses passed from Ws mind to Ws'lips and, murmuring them over, he felt the rhythmic movement of a villaneile pass through them. The roselike glow sent forth its rays of rhyme; ways, days, blaze, praise, raise. Its rays burned up the world, consumed the hearts of men and angels: the rays from the rose that was her wilful heart.
Your eyes have set man's heart ablaze And you have had your will of him. Are you not weary of ardent ways?
...And then? The rhythm died away, ceased, began again to move and beat. And then? Smoke, incense ascending from the altar of the world.
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Above the flame the smoke of praise Goes up from ocean rim to rim. Tell no more of enchanted days.
Smoke went up from the whole earth, from the vapoury oceans, smoke of her praise. The earth was like a swinging smoking swaying censer, a bait of incense, an ellipsoidal ball. The rhythm died out at once; the cry of his heart was broken.His lips began to murmur the first verses over and over; then went on stumbling through half verses, stammering and baffled; then stopped. The heart's cry was broken.
The veiled windless hour had passed and behind the panes of the naked window the morning light was gathering A bell beat faintly very far away. A bird twittered; two birds, three. The bell and the bird ceased; and the dull white light spread itself east and west, covering the world, covering the roselight in the heart.
Fearing to lose all, he raised himself suddenly on his elbow to look for paper and pencil. There was neither on the table; only the soupplate he had eaten the rice from for supper and the candlestick with its tendrils of tallow and its paper socket, singed by the last flame. He stretched his arm wearily towards the foot of the bed, groping with his hand in the pockets of the coat that hung there. His fingers found a pencil and then a cigarette packet. He lay back and, tearing open the packet, placed the last cigarette on the windowledge and began to write out the stanzas of the villanelle in small neat letters on the rough cartboard surface.
