Онлайн чтение книги Лавка древностей The Old Curiosity Shop
4

Mr. and Mrs. Quilp resided on Tower Hill[19]Tower Hill – Тауэр-Хилл (небольшая возвышенная местность в Лондоне к северо-западу от Тауэра). Mr. Quilp’s occupations were numerous. He collected the rents of whole colonies of filthy streets and alleys by the water-side, advanced money to the seamen and petty officers of merchant vessels, and made appointments with men in glazed hats and round jackets[20]round jackets – кургузые пиджаки pretty well every day. On the southern side of the river was a small rat-infested[21]rat-infested – кишащий крысами dreary yard called “Quilp’s Wharf,” in which were a little wooden house. There were nearby a few fragments of rusty anchors; several large iron rings; some piles of rotten wood; and two or three heaps of old sheet copper, crumpled, cracked, and battered. On Quilp’s Wharf, Daniel Quilp was a ship-breaker. The dwarfs lodging on Tower Hill had a sleeping-closet for Mrs. Quilp’s mother, who resided with the couple.

That day besides these ladies there were present some half-dozen ladies of the neighbourhood who had come just about tea-time. The ladies felt an inclination to talk and linger.

A stout lady opened the inquired, with an air of great concern and sympathy, how Mr. Quilp was; whereunto Mr. Quilp’s wife’s mother replied sharply,

“Oh! he is well enough, ill weeds are sure to thrive[22]ill weeds are sure to thrive – худой траве всё впрок.”

All the ladies then sighed in concert, shook their heads gravely, and looked at Mrs. Quilp as at a martyr.

Poor Mrs. Quilp coloured, and smiled. Suddenly Daniel Quilp himself was observed to be in the room, looking on and listening with profound attention.

“Go on, ladies, go on,” said Daniel. “Mrs. Quilp, pray ask the ladies to stop to supper.”

“I didn’t ask them to tea, Quilp,” stammered his wife. “It’s quite an accident.”

“So much the better[23]so much the better – тем лучше, Mrs. Quilp: these accidental parties are always the pleasantest,” said the dwarf, rubbing his hands very hard. “What? Not going, ladies? You are not going, surely?”

“And why not stop to supper, Quilp,” said the old lady, “if my daughter had a mind? There’s nothing dishonest or wrong in a supper, I hope?”

“Surely not,” returned the dwarf. “Why should there be?”

“My daughter’s your wife, Mr. Quilp, certainly,” said the old lady.

“So she is, certainly. So she is,” observed the dwarf.

“And she has a right to do as she likes, I hope, Quilp,” said the old lady trembling.

“Hope she has! Oh! Don’t you know she has? My dear,” said the dwarf, turning round and addressing his wife, “why don’t you always imitate your mother, my dear? She’s the ornament of her sex, your father said so every day of his life, I am sure he did.”

“Her father was a blessed man, Quilp, and worth twenty thousand of some people, twenty hundred million thousand.”

“I dare say,” remarked the dwarf, “he was a blessed man then; but I’m sure he is now. It was a happy release. I believe he had suffered a long time?”

The guests went down-stairs. Quilp’s wife sat trembling in a corner with her eyes fixed upon the ground, the little man planted himself before her, at some distance, and folding his arms looked steadily at her for a long time without speaking.

“Oh you nice creature!” were the words with which he broke silence. “Oh you precious darling! oh you delicious charmer!”

Mrs. Quilp sobbed, knowing that his compliments are the most extreme demonstrations of violence.

“She’s such,” said the dwarf, with a ghastly grin, “such a jewel, such a diamond, such a pearl, such a ruby, such a golden casket set with gems of all sorts! She’s such a treasure! I’m so fond of her!”

The poor little woman shivered from head to foot; and raising her eyes to his face, sobbed once more.

“The best of her is,” said the dwarf; “the best of her is that she’s so meek, and she’s so mild, and she has such an insinuating mother!”

Mr. Quilp stooped slowly down, and down, and down, until came between his wife’s eyes and the floor.

“Mrs. Quilp!”

“Yes, Quilp.”

“Am I nice to look at? Am I the handsomest creature in the world, Mrs. Quilp?”

Mrs. Quilp dutifully replied, “Yes, Quilp.”

“If ever you listen to these witches, I’ll bite you.”

Mr. Quilp made her clear the tea-board away, and bring the rum. Then he ordered cold water and the box of cigars; and after that he settled himself in an arm-chair with his little legs planted on the table.