Dubliners | Gradually Hardening Italian B2 Books

Dubliners | Gradually Hardening Italian B2 Books

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THESISTERS
Therewasnohopeforhimthistime:
itwasthethirdstroke.
NightafternightIhadpassedthehouse(itwasvacationtime)andstudiedthelightedsquareofwindow:
andnightafternightIhadfounditlightedinthesameway,faintlyand
uniformemente
evenly
.
Ifhewasdead,Ithought,Iwouldseethe
riflesso
reflection
ofcandlesonthedarkenedblindforIknewthattwocandlesmustbesetattheheadofa
cadavere
corpse
.
Hehadoftensaidtome:
“Iamnotlongforthisworld,”andIhadthoughthiswordsidle.
NowIknewtheyweretrue.
EverynightasIgazedupatthewindowIsaidsoftlytomyselftheword
paralisi
paralysis
.
Ithadalwayssoundedstrangelyinmyears,likethewordgnomonintheEuclidandthewordsimonyintheCatechism.
Butnowitsoundedtomelikethenameofsomemaleficentandsinfulbeing.
Itfilledmewithfear,andyetIlongedtobe
vicino
nearer
toitandtolookuponits
mortale
deadly
work.
OldCotterwassittingatthefire,smoking,whenIcamedownstairstosupper.
Whilemyauntwasladlingoutmystirabouthesaid,asifreturningtosomeformer
osservazione
remark
ofhis:.
“No,Iwouldn’tsayhewasexactly...
buttherewassomethingqueer...
therewassomethinguncannyabouthim.
I’lltellyoumyopinion....”
Hebegantopuffathispipe,nodoubtarranginghisopinioninhismind.
Tiresomeoldfool!
Whenweknewhimfirstheusedtoberatherinteresting,talkingoffaintsandworms;
butIsoongrewtiredofhimandhis
interminabili
endless
storiesaboutthedistillery.
“Ihavemyowntheoryaboutit,”hesaid.
“Ithinkitwasoneofthose...
peculiarcases....
Butit’shardtosay....”
Hebegantopuffagainathispipewithoutgivingushistheory.
Myunclesawme
fissare
staring
andsaidtome:.
“Well,soyouroldfriendisgone,you’llbesorrytohear.”
“Who?”
saidI.
“FatherFlynn.”
“Ishedead?”
“MrCotterherehasjusttoldus.
Hewaspassingbythehouse.”
IknewthatIwasunder
osservazione
observation
soIcontinuedeatingasifthenewshadnotinterestedme.
MyuncleexplainedtooldCotter.
“The
giovane
youngster
andheweregreatfriends.
Theoldchaptaughthimagreatdeal,mindyou;
andtheysayhehadagreatwishforhim.”
“Godhavemercyonhissoul,”saidmyauntpiously.
OldCotterlookedatmeforawhile.
Ifeltthathislittlebeadyblackeyeswere
esaminando
examining
mebutIwouldnotsatisfyhimbylookingupfrommyplate.
Hereturnedtohispipeandfinallyspatrudelyintothegrate.
“Iwouldn’tlikechildrenofmine,”hesaid,“tohavetoomuchtosaytoamanlikethat.”
“Howdoyoumean,MrCotter?”
askedmyaunt.
“WhatImeanis,”saidoldCotter,“it’sbadforchildren.
Myideais:
letayoung
ragazzo
lad
runaboutandplaywithyoungladsofhisownageandnotbe....
AmIright,Jack?”
“That’smyprinciple,too,”saidmyuncle.
“Lethimlearntoboxhiscorner.
That’swhatI’malwayssayingtothatRosicrucianthere:
takeexercise.
Why,whenIwasanippereverymorningofmylifeIhadacoldbath,winterandsummer.
Andthat’swhatstandstomenow.
Educationisallveryfineandlarge....
MrCottermighttakeapickofthatlegmutton,”headdedtomyaunt.
“No,no,notforme,”saidoldCotter.
Myauntbroughtthe
piatto
dish
fromthesafeandputitonthetable.
“Butwhydoyouthinkit’snotgoodforchildren,MrCotter?”
sheasked.
“It’sbadforchildren,”saidoldCotter,“becausetheirmindsaresoimpressionable.
Whenchildrenseethingslikethat,youknow,ithasaneffect....”
IcrammedmymouthwithstiraboutforfearImightgiveutterancetomyanger.
Tiresomeoldred-nosedimbecile!
ItwaslatewhenIfellasleep.
ThoughIwasangrywitholdCotterforalludingtomeasachild,Ipuzzledmyheadto
estrarre
extract
meaningfromhisunfinishedsentences.
InthedarkofmyroomIimaginedthatIsawagaintheheavygreyfaceoftheparalytic.
IdrewtheblanketsovermyheadandtriedtothinkofChristmas.
Butthegreyfacestillfollowedme.
Itmurmured;
andIunderstoodthatitdesiredto
confessare
confess
something.
Ifeltmysoulrecedingintosome
piacevole
pleasant
andviciousregion;
andthereagainIfounditwaitingforme.
ItbegantoconfesstomeinamurmuringvoiceandIwonderedwhyitsmiled
continuamente
continually
andwhythelipsweresomoistwithspittle.
ButthenIrememberedthatithaddiedof
paralisi
paralysis
andIfeltthatItoowassmilingfeeblyasiftoabsolvethesimoniacofhissin.
ThenextmorningafterbreakfastIwentdowntolookatthelittlehouseinGreatBritainStreet.
Itwasanunassumingshop,
registrato
registered
underthevaguenameofDrapery.
Thedraperyconsisted
principalmente
mainly
ofchildren’sbooteesandumbrellas;
andonordinarydaysanoticeusedtohanginthewindow,saying:
UmbrellasRe-covered.
Nonoticewas
visibile
visible
nowfortheshutterswereup.
Acrape
bouquet
bouquet
wastiedtothedoor-knockerwith
nastro
ribbon
.
Twopoorwomenandatelegramboywerereadingthecardpinnedonthecrape.
Ialsoapproachedandread:.
Luglio
July
1st,1895TheRev.JamesFlynn(formerlyofS.Catherine’sChurch,MeathStreet),agedsixty-fiveyears.R.I.P.
Thereadingofthecard
convinto
persuaded
methathewasdeadandIwas
disturbato
disturbed
tofindmyselfatcheck.
HadhenotbeendeadIwouldhavegoneintothelittledarkroombehindtheshoptofindhimsittinginhisarm-chairbythefire,nearlysmotheredinhisgreat-coat.
Perhapsmyauntwouldhavegivenmea
pacchetto
packet
ofHighToastforhimandthispresentwouldhaverousedhimfromhisstupefieddoze.
ItwasalwaysIwhoemptiedthe
pacchetto
packet
intohisblacksnuff-boxforhishands
tremavano
trembled
toomuchtoallowhimtodothiswithout
rovesciare
spilling
halfthesnuffaboutthefloor.
Evenasheraisedhislarge
tremante
trembling
handtohisnoselittlecloudsofsmokedribbledthroughhisfingersoverthefrontofhiscoat.
Itmayhavebeentheseconstantshowersofsnuffwhichgavehisancientpriestlygarmentstheirgreen
sbiadito
faded
lookforthered
fazzoletto
handkerchief
,blackened,asitalwayswas,withthesnuff-stainsofaweek,withwhichhetriedtobrushawaythefallengrains,wasquiteinefficacious.
IwishedtogoinandlookathimbutIhadnotthecouragetoknock.
Iwalkedawayslowlyalongthe
soleggiato
sunny
sideofthestreet,readingallthetheatricaladvertisementsintheshop-windowsasIwent.
IfounditstrangethatneitherInorthedayseemedina
lutto
mourning
moodandIfelteven
infastidito
annoyed
atdiscoveringinmyselfa
sensazione
sensation
offreedomasifIhadbeenfreedfromsomethingbyhisdeath.
Iwonderedatthisfor,asmyunclehadsaidthenightbefore,hehadtaughtmeagreatdeal.
HehadstudiedintheIrishcollegeinRomeandhehadtaughtmeto
pronunciare
pronounce
Latinproperly.
HehadtoldmestoriesaboutthecatacombsandaboutNapoleonBonaparte,andhehadexplainedtomethemeaningofthedifferentceremoniesoftheMassandofthedifferentvestmentswornbythepriest.
Sometimeshehad
divertiva
amused
himselfbyputtingdifficultquestionstome,askingmewhatoneshoulddoincertaincircumstancesorwhethersuchandsuchsinsweremortalorvenialoronlyimperfections.
HisquestionsshowedmehowcomplexandmysteriouswerecertaininstitutionsoftheChurchwhichIhadalways
considerato
regarded
asthesimplestacts.
ThedutiesofthepriesttowardstheEucharistandtowardsthesecrecyoftheconfessionalseemedsogravetomethatIwonderedhowanybodyhadeverfoundinhimselfthecouragetoundertakethem;
andIwasnotsurprisedwhenhetoldmethatthefathersoftheChurchhadwrittenbooksasthickasthePostOfficeDirectoryandascloselyprintedasthelawnoticesinthenewspaper,elucidatingalltheseintricatequestions.
OftenwhenIthoughtofthisIcouldmakenoansweroronlyaveryfoolishandhaltingoneuponwhichheusedtosmileand
annuiva
nod
hisheadtwiceor
tre volte
thrice
.
SometimesheusedtoputmethroughtheresponsesoftheMasswhichhehadmademelearnbyheart;
and,asIpattered,heusedtosmilepensivelyand
annuiva
nod
hishead,nowandthenpushinghugepinchesofsnuffupeachnostrilalternately.
Whenhesmiledheusedto
scopriva
uncover
hisbigdiscolouredteethandlethistonguelieuponhislowerlip—ahabitwhichhadmademefeeluneasyinthebeginningofour
conoscenza
acquaintance
beforeIknewhimwell.
AsIwalkedalonginthesunIrememberedoldCotter’swordsandtriedtorememberwhathadhappenedafterwardsinthedream.
IrememberedthatIhadnoticedlong
velluto
velvet
curtainsandaswinging
lampada
lamp
ofantiquefashion.
IfeltthatIhadbeenveryfaraway,insomelandwherethecustomswerestrange—inPersia,Ithought....
ButIcouldnotremembertheendofthedream.
Intheeveningmyaunttookmewithhertovisitthehouseof
lutto
mourning
.
Itwasaftersunset;
butthewindow-panesofthehousesthatlookedtothewest
riflettevano
reflected
thetawnygoldofagreatbankofclouds.
Nanniereceivedusinthehall;
and,asitwouldhavebeenunseemlytohaveshoutedather,myauntshookhandswithherforall.
Theoldwomanpointedupwardsinterrogativelyand,onmyaunt’snodding,
proceduto
proceeded
totoilupthenarrowstaircasebeforeus,herbowedheadbeingscarcelyabovethelevelofthebanister-rail.
Atthefirstlandingshestoppedandbeckonedusforwardencouraginglytowardstheopendoorofthedead-room.
Myauntwentinandtheoldwoman,seeingthatI
esitato
hesitated
toenter,begantobeckontomeagain
ripetutamente
repeatedly
withherhand.
Iwentinontiptoe.
Theroomthroughthe
pizzo
lace
endoftheblindwassuffusedwithduskygoldenlightamidwhichthecandleslookedlikepalethin
fiamme
flames
.
Hehadbeencoffined.
Nanniegavetheleadandwethree
inginocchiati
knelt
downatthefootofthebed.
IpretendedtopraybutIcouldnotgathermythoughtsbecausetheoldwoman’smutterings
distraevano
distracted
me.
Inoticedhowclumsilyher
gonna
skirt
washookedatthebackandhowtheheelsofher
stoffa
cloth
bootsweretroddendownalltooneside.
Thefancycametomethattheoldpriestwassmilingashelaythereinhis
bara
coffin
.
Butno.WhenweroseandwentuptotheheadofthebedIsawthathewasnotsmiling.
Therehelay,
solenne
solemn
andcopious,vestedasforthealtar,hislargehandslooselyretainingachalice.
Hisfacewasverytruculent,
grigio
grey
andmassive,withblackcavernousnostrilsandcircledbyascantywhite
pelliccia
fur
.
Therewasaheavyodourintheroom—theflowers.
Weblessedourselvesandcameaway.
InthelittleroomdownstairswefoundElizaseatedinhisarm-chairinstate.
IgropedmywaytowardsmyusualchairinthecornerwhileNanniewenttothesideboardandbroughtoutadecanterofsherryandsomewine-glasses.
Shesettheseonthetableandinvitedustotakealittleglassofwine.
Then,athersister’sbidding,shefilledoutthesherryintotheglassesandpassedthemtous.
ShepressedmetotakesomecreamcrackersalsobutI
rifiutato
declined
becauseIthoughtIwouldmaketoomuchnoiseeatingthem.
Sheseemedtobesomewhatdisappointedatmy
rifiuto
refusal
andwentoverquietlytothe
divano
sofa
whereshesatdownbehindhersister.
Noonespoke:
weallgazedattheempty
camino
fireplace
.
MyauntwaiteduntilElizasighedandthensaid:.
“Ah,well,he’sgonetoabetterworld.”
Elizasighedagainandbowedherheadinassent.
Myauntfingeredthe
gambo
stem
ofherwine-glassbefore
sorseggiare
sipping
alittle.
“Didhe...
peacefully?”
sheasked.
“Oh,quite
pacificamente
peacefully
,ma’am,”saidEliza.
“Youcouldn’ttellwhenthebreathwentoutofhim.
Hehadabeautifuldeath,Godbepraised.”
“Andeverything...?”
“FatherO’RourkewasinwithhimaTuesdayandanointedhimandpreparedhimandall.”
“Heknewthen?”
“Hewasquiteresigned.”
“Helooksquiteresigned,”saidmyaunt.
“That’swhatthewomanwehadintowashhimsaid.
Shesaidhejustlookedasifhewasasleep,helookedthat
tranquillo
peaceful
andresigned.
Noonewouldthinkhe’dmakesuchabeautifulcorpse.”
“Yes,indeed,”saidmyaunt.
She
sorseggiato
sipped
alittlemorefromherglassandsaid:.
“Well,MissFlynn,atanyrateitmustbeagreat
conforto
comfort
foryoutoknowthatyoudidallyoucouldforhim.
Youwerebothverykindtohim,Imustsay.”
Elizasmoothedherdressoverherknees.
“Ah,poorJames!”
shesaid.
“Godknowswedoneallwecould,aspoorasweare—wewouldn’tseehimwantanythingwhilehewasinit.”
Nanniehadleanedherheadagainstthesofa-pillowandseemedabouttofallasleep.
“There’spoorNannie,”saidEliza,lookingather,“she’sworeout.
Alltheworkwehad,sheandme,gettinginthewomantowashhimandthenlayinghimoutandthenthe
bara
coffin
andthenarrangingabouttheMassinthe
cappella
chapel
.
OnlyforFatherO’RourkeIdon’tknowwhatwe’dhavedoneatall.
Itwashimbroughtusallthemflowersandthemtwocandlesticksoutofthe
cappella
chapel
andwroteoutthenoticefortheFreeman’sGeneralandtookchargeofallthepapersforthe
cimitero
cemetery
andpoorJames’sinsurance.”
“Wasn’tthatgoodofhim?”
saidmyaunt.
Elizaclosedhereyesandshookherheadslowly.
“Ah,there’snofriendsliketheoldfriends,”shesaid,“whenallissaidanddone,nofriendsthatabodycantrust.”
“Indeed,that’strue,”saidmyaunt.
“AndI’msurenowthathe’sgonetohiseternalrewardhewon’tforgetyouandallyour
gentilezza
kindness
tohim.”
“Ah,poorJames!”
saidEliza.
“Hewasnogreattroubletous.
Youwouldn’thearhiminthehouseanymorethannow.
Still,Iknowhe’sgoneandalltothat....”
“It’swhenit’salloverthatyou’llmisshim,”saidmyaunt.
“Iknowthat,”saidEliza.
“Iwon’tbebringinghiminhiscupofbeef-teaanymore,noryou,ma’am,sendinghimhissnuff.
Ah,poorJames!”
Shestopped,asifshewerecommuningwiththepastandthensaidshrewdly:.
“Mindyou,Inoticedtherewassomethingqueercomingoverhimlatterly.
WheneverI’dbringinhissouptohimthereI’dfindhimwithhisbreviaryfallentothefloor,lyingbackinthechairandhismouthopen.”
Shelaidafingeragainsthernoseandfrowned:
thenshecontinued:.
“Butstillandallhekeptonsayingthatbeforethesummerwasoverhe’dgooutforadriveonefinedayjusttoseetheoldhouseagainwherewewereallborndowninIrishtownandtakemeandNanniewithhim.
Ifwecouldonlygetoneofthemnew-fangledcarriagesthatmakesnonoisethatFatherO’Rourketoldhimabout,themwiththerheumaticwheels,forthedaycheap—hesaid,atJohnnyRush’soverthewaythereanddriveoutthethreeofustogetherofaSundayevening.
Hehadhismindsetonthat....
PoorJames!”
“TheLordhavemercyonhissoul!”
saidmyaunt.
Elizatookouther
fazzoletto
handkerchief
andwipedhereyeswithit.
Thensheputitbackagaininherpocketandgazedintotheemptygrateforsometimewithoutspeaking.