Lunar poppies
Last words of a beginner cthulhist: "Nglui, nglui... Abzats Kerosh!! I have forgotten words!"Never you know, for what the dead rabbit can be necessary.
Whether instead of to go to us on a visit to a rabbit?
- It the wanderer?
- Well, it is possible and so to say: it the artist.
- The Englishman?
- Russian. His name is Basil.
From "in Yokohama for purchases": who it, the girl playing with sea fleas, the elvish child? - Ha! Plukh! Baz! - and! The MONSTER!!
Paints have faded, have cracked, unknown force braided them, tore off and threw upwards, they flashed brightly and cheerfully. The terrible cry still sounded an echo, but as if through a fog and the walls upholstered with cotton wool. When it has ceased, became we will distinguish splash of waves. Crude air pleasantly cooled the cooling down singed skin.
Dorian didn't dare to open an eye, wasn't cold yet and hasn't had wet feet. It was one on unfriendly, shipped in gray pre-dawn twilight, stony coast. From eyelashes pearls the water fell, the scorched clothes were mixed with seaweed, липла and constrained movements. Дориан has looked round and поковылял to a hill where all the house silhouette more accurately appeared.
Usually the author speaks - we will run a little forward. I suggest to roll away system a little back to look, as it so лоханулся our hero. The matter is that when it has returned to London from long travel, was absent more than twenty years then has fallen in love with a daughter of Sir Henry (not Baskervill, isn't present), has reconsidered priorities, married and has gone with it to America, the country of the dairy rivers and honey fountains (we will not forget about deadlock Kiselnom!), new possibilities, boundless horizons... As the person, whose passion - something new, unique, it has there and then bought two one way tickets on the most grandiose, magnificent and inimitable ship. Yes, I see, at you pulse has become frequent, you try to overcome a fit of laughter - YES, IT was Titanic. Here that I name "fatally doesn't carry".
As the pragmatist, it hardly would be disappointed, as now, by the right of dead, began to see clearly the future, saw Great Depression and all troubles, yes, and to admit, wouldn't like, that by it the wife, this hen considering with a star of movement of feminists twirled. "The BEARD OR the HUMAN CANOE?" Is still a question to whom it is required. By the way, the camera was at it when they have gone to a bottom.
While climbed uphill, have dried up both clothes, and footwear. In lilac twilight, continually stumbled, but has mastered road, has fearlessly entered into a court yard surrounded with a gray stone wall. Any gorguly-chimeras, a few a dry ivy and a shutter from реечек, the blue paint has peeled off. In a drawing room of Doriana have met потасканный the Persian carpet, a fireplace and the darling, but the strict little girl:
- You are late.
Her feet didn't get to a floor therefore were based upon the embroidered small pillow.
- Ah, it is guilty, punish I change
- Certainly.
The girl hasn't smiled. Heat was curious:
- And what price?
- It will be pleasant to you: five thousand charitable concerts.
- Joke?!
- Nothing. Yes - and nearly hasn't forgotten: a shade of your friend-artist and unforgettable canary escarfy!!
"Ophelia is better..." - with displeasure has had time to think Heat, while the surrounding The properties blackened and failed in emptiness, and instead of it new scenery was erected, gas lamps were lit, rose without the aid of mechanisms, as if by air floating, black grand piano. The hall was filled with missing overripe ladies and entirely moustached misters with bald spots. Rustled вееры, false brilliants sparkled, lips were compressed with prejudiced, already ready, a dissatisfaction, in advance, still its fingers haven't concerned keys. But, ah, what at them hungry eyes!!
Because of side scenes has reached, accurately, loudly, on roles readable dialogue:
"... Under a candelabrum looked, in a chest looked, searched behind a case - there is no also all here. A pebble overturned. - under the sea looked? Usually all losses - there. It as at house cleaning: all small rubbish hide under половичок. Here both Dorian could soul and heart in the sea to put. - Not, I checked. Turned off the sea as if a rug, and beat out on a backyard, having thrown through a branch of a hollow tree. Has much found from this that before persistently searched, and already thought that has lost for ever. And was such of what I never have thought much that the such throw out in the sea. And still I have come to a conclusion about plurality of the Universe. And at me a lot of new Fluffies! But that is the only thing - isn't present. There is no soul, there is no heart. But I hear: they precisely somewhere are. - Perhaps, someone has taken away them? - Hm, - Lenor has propped up a hand a cheek, pondering, - Theft. I as if clearly see that evening. All participants. Something happens. Who is guilty? I heard said, dangerous, a phrase. And Pushistik has agreed. Whether during this instant there was a robbery? By an error, on ignorance, naivety? Happy-go-lucky? On an occasion of blind feelings? Хм. Darkly. I hear splash of waves. About, terribly. Blood flows. The accomplice or a victim? And, can, an original cause, a spring, a source? To cause the witness for participation in court!"
Dorian Gray has played all half-sheet something from Debussy as the death silence and an accruing cold have forced it to look back. Shined with this world of the artificial moon, on ropes suspended to a ceiling, its game was listened attentively by Bezil Holluord, that foolish portraitist on which fault it, Dorian, has undergone hundreds torments worse death, is worse than the Hell! But, My God, no... It is dead. How he dares to come?! And why, My God, on its cretaceous person the disappointment and surprise, disgust and any disarming tenderness have stiffened?. "Five thousand concerts," - has tried to dump from itself catalepsy of Dorian, again забрякал a grand piano, notes jumped, but felt stopped dead sight, спиною, stupidly, any misunderstanding, an innuendo, a regret. Has forced itself to look back only after when spectators have dispersed. Anybody. The deserted scarf on a floor.
On island Lenor the wild stone cat on a nickname of Nepemza lived. And скрепкоед the cultivated. The set of different improbable beings visited these hospitable waters. Others made impression of demons and generations of a gloom of Aida, others were air, charming fairies, the innumerable death toll of seamen and adventurers lounged about at coast.
Дориан pined during the next invited supper, his Fingers flitted on grand piano keys, here now... Yes! Heat didn't begin to turn away, no, this time it has rushed on the artist with roar of a panther as if it was forgot and intends to kill him in the second time, for ever to finish.
- Bezil, will suffice already, go away! Ah you, the intolerable shade appealing to justice! Leave me at last - I never loved you, hear? And that evening I was drunk, in my blood told morphine - and here you, demand back your foolish picture!
- Become silent, the spoiled boy! I on you as on the sacred prayed. About, your base ingratitude - you killed me and had the nerve to come on my funeral as the best friend!
- Ah, it prevents to lie peacefully to you in the earth? Look at your seams - what nice стежочки...
The late artist has jumped aside away, hasty reeling up on a neck a scarf - blood from a wound has again begun to flow, stained yellow silk.
- Be-zil... - the voice of Doriana was a call, is gentle and fresh. From intonation and a sight there is no place to disappear. - you have surprisingly well remained. I, whether know, after parting with you, has gone to a trip on the world. Я. Has tested ALL. Perhaps it was not pleasant to you, how I have accepted you then on ball? About, forget. I was still so is inexperienced. Allow to grant any your desire...
Sirens or the Gorgona-jellyfish and that, perhaps, couldn't so to bewitch the artist. He has frozen, only repeated hoarsely: "Dorian," - blood was typed by Dorian in a throat. Heat has frowned and has replaced tone with stamping bronze: "Also we will finish it". Бэзил has cleared the throat. White sand was around painted by blood.
- The poor child. That we from Harry have done. The blind tool of fate. I and itself am glad not to be to you, but, whether see... - he has stretched Dorianu a bud of a yellow rose, - you have read verses, remember, on a cemetery that "death aren't present". It some kind of magic. You, that without knowing, has called me. И. I so love your piano concerts.
Gray with a rage has snatched out a flower, has thrown under feet and has crushed. "All! There was your magic yes has come to an end!" Also has promptly left away, to finish Sen-Sanse of "death Dancing". Basil has sadly sighed, has sat down on hunkers, touching petals of the ruined rose.
Gray has somehow finished performance, having stooped, having pulled a hat over eyes, was going to disappear, but for some reason was late. An exotic kind of steam, it and it, both in шальварах and монистах, he is a robber, she is a bayadere, have drawn its attention.
They played at once a guitar, drums and a harmonica, making thus miracles of acrobatics and juggling with burning torches. Yes, it was difficult to pass by.
- And, the colleague, - has spoken in a bass the robber. - how many there at you under the contract?
- Five thousand.
- Trifling matter. At us - forty thousand. The girl shined with torches has smiled.
- Saints!! That you such...
The beauty has burst out laughing and has closed the person thick black plaits. "You the fool! We - kind. It is not a pity to us - we fulfill another's debts." - lines, a devil, thirteen years of concerts. And these eternal tea drinking.
Basil sat aside, at a separate table. This table was as is huge, but is empty. Nobody wasn't near to Basil as if it than infectious (and indecent) is sick. He sighed heavily, sat, having drawn in feet and having propped up a head рукою, and the second aimlessly carried fingers on a dark oak of a table-top. On a neck - hardly reeled up a scarf it is expensive safran silks. Its clothes and an is dark-emerald waistcoat are covered by the hardened stains. On a pale face the big brown eyes are especially expressive. With sadness and a pain he watched an event, but tears have dried up for a long time on a wax skin of cheeks. Air nearby to a feast has darkened and was condensed by three human figures. It seemed, two, growth more low, in carnival masks, accompany the third, but in all something was guessed the general, mute, but eloquent force, the silent union." The clown, the executioner and the acrobat, "- an echo the consciousness of Bezila has started. A trace in a trace, it is equal on parade, the trio has approached to a table of the artist. Settle grandly. Masks have surrounded Holluorda and the high stranger.
- Greetings favourite. At last, we have found for you, Bezil Holluord. He has blinked, has half-risen, and its eyebrows sable have shot up upwards:
- Mercy misters, all right to be explained!
"Misters" have exchanged glances and have drawn near more close.
- You are pleasant to us.
Basil has looked to the right, on the left, has counted seen in any, art factors, has brought to the general denominator, and, modestly having looked down eyes, said:
- I am flattered by your attention. But in what your interest to my person is covered? The right, nothing deserved.
That from strangers that above and more chilly others, at all without hesitating, has sat down closely by the dead artist, has embraced for a waist right рукою, left has stroked on a cheek, has spent on a curly hair, and has whispered, having nestled lips on an ear:
- It is not necessary to strain. You know: all the worst behind. Yes, it is insulting, painfully to be disappointed in the dream. Also it is not necessary to puzzle and think, of what you were guilty, time it is necessary you to suffer these burning wounds.
Бэзил it was involuntarily pulled to the throat.
- Here to someone bring a scarf, to someone - a knife on a pillow, and to someone - canary шарфик, all in blood. Фаршик, ladies and gentlemen!
Бэзил has turned pale even more, already in yellowness, has pushed away the clinging neighbor, has screamed:
- Yes as you dare?
- Shshsh, look.
Escarfy has broken from a neck of the artist and has departed to a table of the feasting. Female squeals, bark of dogs, abuse, sounds of the developed ware were distributed. Dorian Gray, pretty as if a porcelain doll, has slowly faced a table of the artist and has attentively looked in emptiness.
- Will suffice, enough! Stop! I have forgiven him, have forgiven still then, last seconds lives. It isn't guilty!
- But who then, if not it? M-m-m-m, Bezil, be silent, chi-chi-chi, ммммолчиии, leave it, throw. Not we thought out punishment. We - only visitors of the Lost islands, as well as you. With the permission of the Mistress, we can come and leave. You have got here independently, following force of your love. We have conferred between us, boys, and have decided that you have washed away guilt, for became the accomplice of a crime unpremeditatedly. (What else accomplice? I - a victim!) we not in the right to dispose of your destiny, but we have discussed with Lenor, it agrees you to release, if you...
The high has whispered listeness, slightly moving lips. Has smiled, has winked at parting, and all three, as if on command, have disappeared. Бэзил has risen also firm gait has gone to a table Heating.
- Dorian, it is heavy to speak to me.
- Considering your trauma, I am not surprised absolutely not.
- I urge you to be frank. It seems to me, I have ripened.
- For a long time it is time, after all you any more the boy.
- Ah, Dorian as you are intolerable! But I have come to ask from you about one малости...
- Pranks?
- A little, Dorian. I trust, you to me won't refuse. You will like my offer. I have conceived it still when you only have arrived to London, and I did sketches at a charitable concert. But I was afraid then to ask you, was afraid that you apprehend it as something unseemly.
- Not юлите, my darling Bezil, you only inflame my curiosity.
- I ask, pose for me bared.
- Bezil, can, you haven't noticed in all this galloping History, - but you are dead. To what to you it?
- Yes, I am a dead artist, but I will not forgive to myself and I will pursue still you if so faultless nature avoids a fate to be embodied on a canvas.
- Basil, Basil, the old kind friend, really to you not enough first attempt to draw me? Confess, it through your fault we became prisoners of these islands? What you there spoke yesterday?. It is any magic, truly? Sorcery, Bezil?.
- I here at anything. And, if you wish to receive benefit I offer the transaction: for your diligence I am ready to share a secret how to leave these islands.
- Only five thousand charitable concerts - and I am free! - has burst out laughing Heat.
- Well, it if by rules. And you after all like to go against?. It is necessary to offer only Lenor replacement to itself, other Fluffy. All is extremely easy... - has ingenuously told Bezil, but hasn't had time and to finish speaking, and Dorian already has skipping run to catch any naive blockhead, to show instead of itself to the mistress of the Lost islands.
Hallward minute has stood, gloomy looking following I Heat, then marvelously has phlegmatically shrugged shoulders ("Well as you wish, I fairly have tried all") and slowly потопал in the opposite side. Occasionally it bent, attentively peered at the earth underfoot. It seems, something has found and, happy, has carefully buried in a pocket. It has staid some (long) time at osier-bed thickets, examining, as if dressed by expensive sword, kidneys-florets. The ice stream hastened by, winding among stones. Further - the ridges of hills absorbed pink вересковым by the sea. Basil has blinked the eyes and has clearly seen the streams of air shivering, changeable. Because of them the house on the brink of breakage that became too dense and real, and that - полурастворялся in gray heavens, as if an unsteady, transparent water color. Having collected the thoughts, holding with a palm a burden at the bottom of a pocket, has walked to Down Manor.
Possibly, the house name needs to be interpreted as Dawn Possession. Well, or the Madness Shelter. Basil has listened, gaging under almost church arch of an input. Clock's ticking. There is no sound more soothing and house. A civilization. And still - nearby drank tea. A bone ring of porcelain, a quiet conversation, murmur of spilled fragrant tea leaves. The artist has last time looked back on freakish entrance doors - from two shutters, one over another, for unimaginable сущностей other measurements, - and has safely stepped in a dining room. The serious little girl of years of twelve sat at a table, only here the service was toy, and tea she gave to drink to a porcelain doll and a stone green cat. Бэзил has respectfully bowed to the mistress, then - to a doll and a cat, has obtained the permit to sit down. Lenore has returned a cup into place, промокнула sponges a napkin and has blissful stared at the artist.
- You lovely, amusing, clever Fluffy. Know, the one who steals someone's soul, - the thief, he is a criminal. And in punishment, it loses the?
The phrase came to an end with sonorous interrogative intonation. Бэзил it was rumpled, without knowing what to utter. To smooth awkwardness, has taken a sip some the invented tea from a weightless, tiny cup. Strange, but he has felt the present taste Darjeeling. In Russian style, with milk. Even a second - and he has realized that a cat and a doll, having turned heads, attentively study it. "About May!..." - the beginnings of Basil, but остерегся to remember God in these improbable, иномирных halls. "I have brought to you a gift, Ms.," - have taken out a fine fluffy sunflower seed. "FLUFFY!" - it is happy всплеснула palms of Lenor. Бэзил hardly in a faint not хлопулся from at once subsided pressure (поди, has again forgotten that has died). Has guessed!! "To me doesn't get my canvases and paints. Here - wonderful places, but I choke, without having possibility to display all exciting variety and bewitching unity of these rocks, the seas, the sky. Release me, Ms." - "Also what you will do? You have died. You are killed, you shouldn't come back to the mortal." - "allow me to ask about rest, Ms." Lenor was whispered with a doll, has seriously listened to authoritative opinion of a cat. "It is good. Give here the cachenez." - "what? Isn't present at me any..." - but Lenor already unwound a scarf, and then took and has broken off it lengthways in half, and two were formed identical шарфика! One it has let out in a window, the second has hung up on a neck of Basil. "Go AWAY," - with strange force in a voice the girl has told, and the artist has felt, as the wind passes through the rarefied walls, picks up it, bears. Has come to be on unknown coast, with a heavy bag - cardboards, paints.
The lost Islands is whole archipelago. Except island Lenorka known to us on which there is a mentioned private residence and there live numerous Pushistiki, and islands Majorcas where there is no time the Major, from the south on the West, a huge comma pined, small islets, at times - simply wild шхеры where only seagulls find a shelter were stretched. But mentions two islands-SWORN BROTHERS are worthy: the Nu and Nja. Their natives wage with each other eternal war, and that one islanders their neighbors aren't present-is not present, and will send towards the enemy fighting to a canoe to fall asleep settlements of the opponent arrows. Thus soldiers sing the songs frightening even the most courageous old salts: "the canoe, fighting canoe! We float - we - in what? - In fighting canoe! And here it - that? - Fighting canoe!" And though noses are generously pierced by bone sticks and clothes severe guys don't recognize, swinging spears and onions, nevertheless they in gym shoes and the sun - goggles.
Dorian not for long ransacked in searches "fluffy", and any militant natives to it not a hindrance. At a garbage tank he has seen dreadful the tramp, rummaging in a waste. The beggar was healthy, as a bull, and the look had mild and stopped. Heat easily it has learned is Jim Vejn, the brother актриски Sibilly. It was easier to allure this little fool, than at the baby to select a sugar candy. "Here and nicely - now I can is cheap be cleaned from here!" - Dorian exulted, jumping from a pebble on a pebble, conducting behind itself on a rope this poor excuse for the person, dribbling and snotty. With dissatisfaction he has looked under feet - there has not come yet inflow time, but water for some reason arrived, svintsovo-dairy, opaque, it has flooded all lowlands. Has begun to smell a chrysanthemum and a lilac. Heat has begun to bustle, оскальзываясь, urging on stupid ruminant, capable to tell only "hey, and I know you" and "you will die" (Jim Vejn repeated all road about it) and, sometimes - "they have made something with my head, there, in a clinic". Dorian has with anxiety had a look at coast, and though it seemed to it that it has left for a long time from it, the matte mirror of waters just licked its heels. And when silent singing was distributed - Dorian has shuddered as from blow his grandpa's stick on a back.
There was I by sea,
By the sea,
Equally - betrayed in belief,
Truly - eaten by a grief,
To become a mountain,
The dark blue sky.
I don't trust, I don't trust.
Not to leave and not to remain...
Yes heat and a fever is better, than... Dorian has learned the singer. Here it leaves water, eyes are closed, its clothes - green ooze, copper hair became even more magnificent and longer, a fake crown - a crest with pearls. - Sibilla, no! - having forgotten about everything, has cried out Dorian ("ah, what for I am not a lawn?" - camarade Schwarz). Eyes of the dead woman have there and then swung open, in them there was an ice and poison and larvae of water bugs.
- Ah, our kid, it cries, to it is sick: to die - without been born.
- This sin - on your conscience.
- The mongrel! A pig! - cried out Ophelia, throwing in Heating dirt clods. - I hate you!
- Yes, I a full pig,
Simply full pig,
I in a dirty pool lie,
And you don't touch me -
After all this pool - mine! - Dorian has responded, and itself was taken aback from the said text.
- You are a murderer, the murderer! Pity rubbish! The liar! The perjurer! The seducer! You have seduced and have ruined so much souls that your own should burn eternally, eternally!! I damn you! I damn!
- Yelp, the darling. Yours howl - marvelous music. Perhaps, the future generations can estimate it. In it metal and a fate voice is heard. Doom. Dark. Dead. Ah, it is poetry.
Grejushki in a pocket had by miracle a few salts. Only thanks to primitive magic they managed to miss each other: dead Sibilla howled, groaned and threatened behind an impassable strip of sparkling crystals. Dorian, more without delaying, has gone to the mistress of islands Lenor. The Stuffed animal stayed With that - a strange being with a body of the person, in a business suit, but with a head of the elk, one glass eye is lost also a skin is spoiled кожеедами, horns are cut, that didn't cling to a lintel. - your power Has come to an end it is necessary me! I have resulted to you, instead of myself, another "fluffy"! - from a threshold has Gray pushed Jimmy. Lenore отвлекась from conversation, has burst out laughing: - And, so you at us - the fan of a freebie? Well, good fluffy. And you - the silly, impudent boy! - also has clapped.
From waters sea the huge sloping boulder, a granite block in shape whether fishes, whether a sugar candy on a stick has risen. On one side it it has been cut: the Island a freebie. And really - desert island! - has joyfully become on heart at Dorian. Lovely boy Gray has stepped. On this virgin center of the universe. Has looked round. Neither animals, nor little birds. Waters around незамутнены, as if distillate. Azure such waters, from here - and to horizon, and further away. Uninhabited? Yes. Fruitless? No.
On the Island to a freebie grew three bushes. On each bush - on three leaves. In clear days I Heat it was possible to see a thoughtful Stuffed animal on island. And sometimes - the Doll. Lenore зареклась to visit the malicious young man, but sent to it the independent observers. Still at times by island, scraping a ground the bottom, the Creeping Galley floated. Морячки were rolled out on a deck, catcalled poor creature Doriana to which even had to hide on the bald пятачке, songs bawled and released obscene jokes. The cook was most cheerful of crew: it took out on a review feral, yearned by esthetic kinds of pleasure I Heat the most delightful culinary masterpieces. There and then sailors got the big spoons, and, having executed on them few times the Apple and Farewell of the Slav (first five steps) in a flash ate ruthlessly next magic яство. As around the Lost islands the specific place of points where many and many gate between the worlds from time to time by a freebie island on water ran the illusive trains which have left in a loop of Moebius opens, and under sounds of a fighting drum settles down, сопелок and ГНуслей the tub passed present orcish. Well, or elvish boat. Though, of course, Elrond Magnificent also ordered to the curious people to avoid islands very strictly.
Seagulls have dug to themselves in sand лунки, were cozy arranged, twirl by heads there-here. A raven-adventurer dives from a rock ledge into the high sea, doesn't reach slightly - it is picked up by a wind and carries away up. Дориан has jumped - it became the witness of a miracle! From the sea abyss, one for another boulders rose, making the cyclopean bridge. Heat has begun to jump on "pebbles" and whether long, it is short - left to the coast covered with a black pebble. A vessel skeleton, in a beard from stinking seaweed, усеяный sea acorns and the hearts living in limy tubules, their gills of the most gentle shades hanged down like cambric nasal kerchiefs from a gun muzzle, from handrails. It that for a floating almshouse? Is a schooner the Prophet of the Ion. Heat passed the ship and has stepped under a shade of wood, what not видывал for all the кругосветки - mushroom. It is damp and is dark." Trees "squeaked on a wind. Дориан some time went, all accelerating steps, through a thicket, in the distance the edge, a gleam heavenly already was seen, but, strange business, hasn't come nearer to a desired glade. It all loomed ahead. Heat has passed to a lynx, has run - but an exit from wood, no distance, escaped. The rain in addition has begun. Sulky as a bear, Grejushko from all a support has failed in a hole. Darkness - an eye if. Has rummaged around around - wet stones, water splash. Has groped something that it has accepted for hanks of woolen threads..." Who here? "- has asked someone's sonorous voice." Dorian Heat, "- Dorian has resourcefully answered Heat." And I am a boy from a well ". -" So in the same place... Like the girl was? "-" THERE - was. And HERE it goes for a drive on roundabouts, and I sit in a well. "-" place? "Has somehow got out. Looks - and it all on the same an island to a freebie!
The Sklizsky chest covered with a bloody crust emerged from abyss in canes. In a chest, противу expectations, weren't decaying cheerful remains, hearts and a meat broth of color of correct ketchup. Two-from-coffer therefrom jumped out. Well, naturally, it were the Brain-rights and the Brain-left. Written out Lenor from clinic of Elrond the Magnificent.
In the summer on an island to a freebie the sun never sits down. And creamy twilight floods the sky with mysterious pearl light. Willy-nilly, enjoying a sleeplessness, you start to touch in memory beads of the lived years. Here and Grejushko, rustling with a clumsy stick in a fire, watched the magnificent pink dawn which is born in the southeast, and mechanically has begun to mutter MONOLOGUES About the SOUL.
I have died. In it there can not be doubts. And I in a hell though it is absolutely not similar to representations about it, generated in human minds. However, it still I. I breathe, I sleep, I hunger also thirst. I am am weighed by this island! And let don't hope, noooo, I don't repent and for what I do not regret. Фигушки. Life one, let it also was tightened. Stop. And, maybe, I have escaped from the burning ship? And I rave from dehydration, and my thoughts mix up with a reality? No, the nonsense, my life still glimmers, I - live, yes! A devil's portrait. Devil's islands. No but if I am live as all these people, these dead persons can go, speak? What turns out, they too are live? Or I haven't killed them? And if so, then for what to me all it? For what - for what, matter of course - for arrogance and egoism, unequivocally. On truth, I all life have been enamoured only of myself, all испереживался, ah, as though to keep, not to lose youth, appeal, health. Probably, I have looked through something. Something important. But isn't present: I after all didn't wish myself such share. To me has had the luck - yes any on my place would conduct itself(himself) as! All this хваленая morals, the honesty, all these silly precepts - a penny it the price! These людишки, these pity puppets - they soil in a small way because it prevents fear. Almost religious feeling. Not the love them moves, and fear of punishments. Whether it they fear? Ridiculously.
Boughs cracked in a fire, the surf adjusted the pebbles dancing in fresh water since night. The gray sky promptly cleared up. The sun still has only just come off the sea smooth surface which have lived it, and already mercilessly burned. Undressing, Gray has pulled on a head and a shirt, and a jacket and has hidden hands in sleeves.
The fire has burned through to ashes.
I love made up men,
Though I am not that.
I love so, simply, without the reasons,
As a cat without fools
Cream loves on morning.
Youths without mustache понутру
To me to become, both shyness, and fire.
You my boys don't touch,
They both will dance, and will sing,
And having lulled - will departure.
Also remember, as called them,
Beautiful, strong, young.
Yesterday we again drank a make-up,
Well and today, we will have a look -
Band of windy children
From a threshold demand, make a din,
Всяк beats out better a role.
Well, there is no God, be - the King.
And again in business - coal, a chalk.
I early, have early turned gray.
I will descend on coast, as a dawn
The evening will concern the seas,
Theater, theater - love washing,
Instead of romanticism of robbery.
I will postpone the ятаган,
I will leave a vessel and a command,
And dusty, decrepit buffoonery
Creaking, under sounds of a saraband,
Will go to hard road.
Well, no, there is no King.
Stay though God.
I love made up...
YES I NOT the GAY!! - has exclaimed in the end Heat, rushing furiously with fists on the mocker. "Suntanned curly the captain", having lowered a leg in rolled up canvas брючишках, only has sparkled an eye, green in which the sea, and gold tooth shone. "Yes I, like, too. It is While sober, in port yes in cash. Смекаешь?" - "Eee... And you how many months in the sea?" - "years, the brother, years. In three days will be ten." Dorian Heat has ceased кукситься and to compress cams and has quickly moved back to the center of an island of a freebie. "I thought, galleys have got out of fashion in late antiquity." - "yes I, it, earn some money. As Charon." - "A steam locomotive?"-"isn't present, the captain of the dead. The ship of the dead should have a captain."-"and theater?"-"well, it as a hobby. For heart. At me here the real professional buffoonery of one vagrant actor. And you, my friend, in any way отвертишься." While Dorian moved back - has come to be on other to edge of an island of a freebie, but, nevertheless, the crude heavy vessel with the affable captain has appeared there and then, before a nose, rocking on lazy waves. "Э-а, in any way," - it is enough having grunted, the captain has jumped off on a land. Close it wasn't more terrible, than in the distance unless from it struck then and iodine. "To light won't be? (" The uncle, don't beat! "Has at full speed flown in a brain) oh, here and at me stocks have come to an end. How here a biting? You though have caught something?"-"only фаршик and a chest. To me devilishly doesn't carry." The seaman has reflected, the stone has sat down on warm the sun, has twisted a ring passed in an ear. "Mdaaa... Well and a hole. Ладненько!" - хлопул itself on knees, has jumped." Let's start a construction of scenery!"
These three days lasted painfully long, eternally. The Actor-captain in the first day has shown a drama "the King in yellow". While prepared a scene, puffed, swore on all adverbs and этак it is unostentatious поигрывал muscles. Дориан avoided to look to it at a breast. For some reason its kind cast thoughts on cocoes. Equally as shoulders - about hind legs of thoroughbred horses. The Poet-harona called... How you have guessed?! Хуан-Педро-Гомес-и-Мария-Санча-Лучия-де-лас-Пьедад-Сарагоса-Мантилья-Лопес. But he asked, that it named precisely Varfolomey.
Whistling, причмокивая, having eaten at one go a butt of sour green apples, efficiently knocking a hammer, has collected wonderful mega-meta-scenic space. And - it was started turning. Performance was similar to a midday dream, on sticky amber honey, on a hot intoxicated sleepiness. All floated, mixed up, sparkled. The maiden laughter was heard, in a nose was щекотно, as from a plumelet. Varfolomey recited long pathos dialogues, and I Heat passion as it would be desirable to wake up, turn over on other side, to be stirred up, open eyes - on the contrary, there all same, lime haze, and someone's sweet voice: Still пегсиков?. Far singing Also seemed: Sleep in the sleep and have a dream... For the second day Varfolomey отжог: has presented the potpourri from creativity остроухих inhabitants of Vardenfella. Here were and "Game at dinner", and "Horror of lock Ksir", "the Small rough song", "Dances with трехногим гуаром" and the fourth certificate "Lewd аргонианской maidens". Yes-yes, Bartolomju has played also the servant the Coquette TOO. For the third day it has presented immortal "Imagination" and has left with fireworks. Hurrah! Vacation!!
Once, wandering beaten days on island, Dorian, except already habitual chest and annoying фаршика, has found out that in canes Rusal laps. Heat somewhere read that creatures of a sea brain have more, than at a hen, and has beckoned Rusala an empty handful. Нерей has swum up more close with the person simple as at the sea fad, has looked languidly and has spat in the stretched palm. Then, having turned over few times in water, again has swum up, has leaned the elbows about sand and, wagging with the fish tail, has asked a chest voice: "I ль on light of all am lovelier?" - "you are brought awfully up, but, I recognize, you милашко." Shaggy eyelashes of Rusala have trembled, and brilliants of water splashes have flashed in sun beams. On its white silky skin as if shining, drops rolled down, leaving wet traces. The body of Rusala was bent, and it has flopped on shoal, having stretched widely hands, and, looking in heavens, has whispered: "Here and the father so speaks to me." - "who it?" - "the tsar of depths." - "and what he still speaks?" - "that I the idler also that I shouldn't hob-nob with biped чудиками, going on top. From all of them angrily. You, hunters and collectors in what don't know measures." - "your father is wiser than many emperors and prophets."
Русал came every evening, sat down on a distant pebble so that Heat hasn't got (and he invented traps as if hunted on speaking turkey "курлы"). They it is lazy and elegantly squabbled. "Float here, yours мокрость!" - "Yes it is here again quite good me." Rusal moved a tail, splashed it on a sea smooth surface, lifting clouds of splashes. "And I saw your soul. The fifth day in the southern seas." - "and heart, my heart?!" - "isn't present, but it is possible to ask at sea inhabitants. Hey, you, what go on water, what посуху, concealed in the depth, soaring in height, whether you saw hearts of it обормота?" Three nights came all new messengers of sea elements, but any messages about heart of Doriana Heating. They brought empty cockleshells, precious pearls, fragments of the sunk ships, stacked all to feet of the islander tired with idleness, steadfastly looked in eyes - and dived back into depth. At last, for the fourth night the Big Turtle has come. On its armor, поросшем the woods, pitted by fjords, the wingless baby bird of the Petrel sat. Such was born. All were delighted, have crowded around, have stiffened pending. And it: "and what for to you to leave this world? After all it is created just for you" - and washed off.
Ленор has left in holiday. But she won't leave to the mercy of fate the islands?! It has found to herself of a substitute. Whom? Who could though a little it to replace? It was тоута (prince) of Nuada. Well, this next test of belief - for зама is faster. Aha.
Nuada has received the passport of the citizen of Ukraine. Complained: "Why it is not specified anywhere, what I am a champion on desktop ffulke and on struggle tsellelig?" He sits ashore, counts up newcomers fluffies.... At first Nuada absorbed them in the daily log, accurately marked. Lines have quickly come to an end. Нуада in embarrassment both has angrily looked around - and has found out the stony beach covered with fragments of limestone. Then it began to collect from them piles - type of bones in accounts not to get off. In half an hour Nuadu wasn't visible because of boulders. Cursed, has risen - feet have become numb from sitting on корточках. In the next stone two its curves of a blade stuck out. Without looking, has passed by, has begun to tear off from itself an armor, to break gloves, a belt, boots, and - has dived into run wave. In red труселях, to it! And on a wave, and on a wave - white lambs ran. Nuada it was lost among them, взбаламучивая foam by hands. On the sun shone its right - silver, from the fingers to a shoulder, skillfully executed by the master-smith. Among lambs any gray hillock which is distinct from a simple wave has seemed. "Dolfinie!" - The prince has solved. And it has appeared - the unique shepherd in the world of sea and mountain lambs. Like - water, and like - and quite to itself carnal мужичок, and a bristle on the brick person real.
They with Nuada have quickly made friends. The shepherd has begun to train elf in human customs and language. Earlier (I will reveal terrible secret) Nuada suffered a cruel allergy to people up to that the skin burst. Soon Nuada could not only occupy turn under a signboard MAKE FOR BASILS, but also to receive at aunt Ljuba in pouring the whole canister foamy напiя. Aha. It is impressive nursed on a beach (as a peacock), and this similarity has amplified, when it began to take away the yellowish hair in a tail. It is a little more - and from the white son of vaults touta has changed in the suntanned macho of coasts. It has ceased to send on magpie tails (and forty here much) рыдательные notes to parents: "the kind father and the mother. It is awful! With shudder I think, how cruelly you have made the wrong choice a children's recreation camp for your son..." (Devil's elves are very hardy. Or are too sluggish?. Years in three hundred they only have time to finish nine classes...)
Interesting, interesting, not to have that you want...
Lenore has understood that happens with soul of Dorian: that has taken offense and has left. There can not simply live the person two different lives, and at Heating an external cover and soul so lived... you will not allure her by milk, tea not a floor board creaking. We will search. To wait for letters and бандеролек. And here once - at Heating even tears were screwed - it has received the letter in a narrow gray envelope without inscriptions with the red sealing wax press representing three crowns, one over another. The sheet of the papyrus proportional to it has dropped out of an envelope. "Come. Your soul." - laconic lines. And where to go?!
Entertaining artifacts.
The dream short away as it расстает, we will for ever wake up, Death - you doesn't become.
The shade has covered Heating. Повеяло sepulchral dampness and... The Herring. A familiar rotten vessel. - again you! - Dorian has frowned. Varfolomey in a suit very clean didn't resemble any more that pirate. It was the solid London gentleman. Easy bow, has raised a hat. Has risen on a nose, опершись on expensive cane. A handle - a silver skull. The suntanned person in a frame of growing gray hair. Wrinkles: affably smiles.
- Follow council, the lovely boy. I see, to you not to come up without the help.
- You know how to return my soul?
It is very difficult. I worry, suddenly you will not pass all way up to the end.
- Speak, speak - that to me to do?!
- About, the recipe will seem to you bitter. To refuse immortality.
- AND?!
- To live life, and, can, and offer it - for the sake of favourite. Can? Will manage to find star heart? Ah, yes, - and to put it on an altar of a devil? Sit down - we sail to London!
The visitor didn't have left eye, the left hand and the left foot.
Sorry... - Has carefully asked Dorian (from the visitor also badly struck), - you, a case, not the Bean?
- And what, craken to you in a snout, I am similar to Robert Dawny? I, what your way the Welshman? I, in general, a storm and a cuttlefish when chose the permit in sanatorium at the sea, asked, that uniform live soul! I protest! Again noodles on ears, mean saigonians!
- So I not live, and souls at me wasn't present.
- And what YOU do on Cheerful island? - We study songs, we glue figures from macaroni, in every possible way we bring up support and we strengthen friendship... - пионервожатый has reflected, has shy corrected itself: - or on the contrary.
Basil Hallward wandered the second days on deserted island, occasionally sitting down to draw. In bales with art accessories the collapsible stool was found out even!
The sun, appear, did not move at all on a sky. Yes, he trusted Lenor and tried to perceive all "as is", without introducing in a reality confusion and a negative of the tousled thoughts. And here, having inspired on a panorama-triptych, passing in other point, burdened by impressive knapsacks, only has felt, as stones have swept from under feet, and has departed after them from breakage. And only our unfortunate drowned man has like a blissful pacification of depths as someone's unmerciful hand has pulled out it and belongings. The ship!
- You who? - Has lifted a look of Basil, having cleared the throat.
- I am your Haron. But friends can call me Bartolomew.
- You will bring me in Aid? - The trembled voice the artist has asked, ceasing to squeeze out clothes.
- God with you, my sweet, you are waited by Other Coast.
Here Bezil has forgotten about all and, having opened a mouth, has stared on a carrier. Бартоломью has thrown up the hands, all has begun to sparkle a good-natured smile, has begun to fuss:
- But! But! In the beginning it is necessary to cure you! Whether and you know... An infallible remedy from warm wounds?.
Бэзил from confusion has dropped этюдник and a case with lenses. - you can to me is fair in all admit. To whom will I stir up? Well, - the captain has twisted головою, - unless to fishes.
- А. О. At me now in thoughts mess and such... Hum. Бэзил has pointed a finger, which hum at it. The captain, without losing softness and soothing tone, already without a smile, has seriously assured: - Druzhishche, we with you, thank God, not so young chickabiddies, the youth - fine is time, yes, but also a maturity - excellent time. We with you know salt, we know juice, fruits of each tree. I hope, you won't refuse. This schooner, my work. It will be pleasant to me to divide these the sea and the sky - with you. I promise: I am valid, tender and simple.
Бэзил has hesitated. On the person has passed a shade.
Is - the offer? Эээ... The offer to remain to live here?
- Only for a summer season.
Бэзил has tousled hair and, with relief having sighed, has begun to touch and unpack the materials which have suffered from water. Бартоломью has put a forefinger to a corner of a smiling mouth and artfully continued:
- And if it will be pleasant to you at me, and the next year. And then. Here it is lovely enough. When not штормит. Settle down. Yes, also change clothes in dry, there, in a cabin, there is all necessary.
While Bezil loafed on a deck, hanged out things to dry, captiously selected to itself the dress, Bartolomju sat on a nose, looked somewhere afar, told:
- You understand, I desperately need the interlocutor. In this immense, eternal beauty, freedom... So it is easy to be lost. In general, on contract conditions, it is authorized to me to transport at a time no more than one passenger. Agree, it for me real torture, and to get acquainted with soul properly you will not be in time. A reloading point, and only. I the sailor will write down you.
- But I am not familiar with a seamanship.
Стаксели and бомбрамсели! You, what, think, I - great мореход?! Yes throw! Our travel, as though it is more sensible to express, is illusory. We don't move. It is the world dooms us and our ship, bears there or here. It is my work. Monotonous enough. Any romanticism. And after all you are dead, the friend.
- Thanks, and I began to forget that.
- By the way, whether your bagatelle?. - Bartolomju was inclined and has got because of a board canary фаршик. - Probably, has slid off, when you have fallen in water. Having seen confusion and even horror of Holluorda, the captain has quickly hidden склизкое, a cold cachenez under a wine cask. - if you aren't glad to it let will lie down there, to autumn colds.
Бэзил has become straight and has looked steady at the interlocutor. Has smiled. Irresolutely, shy. But couldn't constrain the gushed feelings. He has silently burst out laughing, has blinked, has strong compressed palms the кучерявую a head.
- It seems that to me has devilishly carried. Emmas... Бартоломью.
- Well and it is excellent. The suit during a time has had. I look, we in one weight category.
Бэзил has assumed a dignified air: - you Wish побоксировать, the captain?
- Later. And now I suggest to drink for a meeting, Mr.?.
- Bezil, - was confused the rescued.
- Wonderfully, my friend. Both of us in a prize, and we are waited by warm cloudless summer. So speak... Weather forecasters.
My uncle of the most fair rules,
He has taught a parrot...
No, honestly, there are no forces!
About, here lines it would relieve
From these inventions for ever!
You only, милсдари, present:
The person comes on a visit,
For the first time in the house it, by the way,
To it in wonder buffet,
Carpets Persian and chandeliers,
It is shaved, elegantly dressed, -
It is disappointed in the best feelings!!
The owner - in a paint, ladies - in shouts,
Well, servants, it is clear - to guffaw.
About, a such discomfiture great!
Visitors to you not to see any more!
The bird is guilty, naturally,
Though it is unreasonable, a divine creature,
She, probably, still is proud,
That at it big... The dictionary.
We do not lose complexion -
All works on half an hour!
The portraitist V.Pustoslov:
Half an hour - the portrait is ready!
Mugs, cockleshells, souvenirs, unique works of the Crimean artists! Greetings, Nuada. Grivnas on roubles, roubles for grivnas! An eternal problem with artists: as will meet the colleague at first admires its genius, extols skill, and then, through a long chain of statements and critical remarks about color, tone, the form, light, shades, to the technician, will start to prove that you - a pot with the handle, and legs at an easel curves!! Then, truth, on-prijatelski will tap on the shoulder at the following meeting, to marry off to friends and to ask on loan to the fee. And paints, yes! The main thing, not those that in a case with Dorianom Is heated.
Street of Freethinkers!
- First of all, remember, the friend that the captain of this vessel - I. While I order - to obey implicitly. The main thing by the ship - the strict discipline. Isn't present worse when the command continually shirks duties or even edifies officers to mind-reason. And any wine parties-binges. Time at you will be - about! And that didn't vanish for nothing, I will teach you to knit artful knots, sea terminology...
- And to draw?.
- Certainly! E.Net to learn you to draw - in any time, what Neptune? But here if will manage to get to a strong storm - here, all right, fast etudes of the highest wave aren't necessary to me, ah, and clean your plates with silver bromide! The Hop-e-gay-gop, throw all and only have time бросопить yes to poison sails in a little way...
Э, побаландаешься about mine on this job, not on турецки - on-fish you will start to mutter!
After long fluctuations,
The boatswain, lying on a sofa,
Suddenly as aloud will say:
"I think, the sofa floats!"
(Playful songs)
Present, what we go on the Snark?
Тошно, it is sick - as if the heated blade turn in heart, and isn't present-is not present and it will be remembered, an infection. And after all I admired it, its cleanliness and beauty has found the response in many hearts. Or I am punished what has wanted approval of public, and, can, have too frankly represented Doriana on a portrait? No, at all it. Really so badly self-renunciation, a glorification of this demon in human обличьи? I have too brightly reflected not its real face, but my enthusiastic sight, I have subjected to its infernal temptation of a narcissism, and it hasn't resisted! The poor boy, an ill fate vessel. It, looking in a mirror, also didn't dream that someone begins to esteem its ideal, the inhabitant of heaven. Fie. It was gave to me then this first prize, vanity me has brought. Wanted to show to the world the person of the New Century, incarnate harmony, but not restrained and hammered, eating the Holy Spirit, beauty of ascetics of Catholicism, not red-cheeked, рукастую country daring, no, and not is venomous-was tired-grown wise beauty of noblemen, not magic of the east (already and so, and этак disassembled on post cards and a pattern for fashionable skirts) - and something live, quivering, here, near to everyone! And, it has appeared, чревоточина in the finest, snow-white, fragrant flower.
When Basil has finished history, the captain has thoughtfully nibbled a beard and has summed up:
- Surrenders to me, Dorian at all isn't worse than you. Difference all only that you thought, about what will like, and it realized the dreams.
- In affairs, you still also protect it!
- No. I only say that evil thoughts as are bad, as bad acts.
- Then, you know, you know... Then all my familiar same criminals and villains. Yes there will be no all over the world a person who has sworn that never it was covered by rage or lust! Yes here the such should carry dry-cargo ships!
Weather has started to spoil. Still recently such pleasant fresh breeze has amplified, became prickly and shrill as if in the middle of summer there has come a winter icy cold. Hallward has postponed albums and pastels in tubes. Dark clouds have hidden the sun, waves with noise hit about a board, расшвыривая splashes, and Bezilu was necessary to outvoice them truly an ocean roar.
- And I about you have reconnoitered something! You are Bartolomeu the Portuguese. The pirate! And later became citizens of an English crown and it is known as Black Bart, the thunder-storm of the seas, is more terrible than captain Morgan!
- Razrazi me a thunder! Also what, what so to run and shout to me about it in ears?! Well, there was a business. Oh, to be filled up щас on Tortugu, there - rum and cute whores... - From surplus чуйств the captain has clasped Bezila below a waist. - and you here run on the ship and cry out. "A thunder-storm of the seas". Yes you will know that the present corsairs are my friends Guillaume and Kristobal, but about them - nobody will write. Only the ocean recognizes their valor, and only it one will captivate their souls for ever. If you think that I any bandit, that, an anchor to me under an edge, you will acquire trouble, I swear old man Hemingueem! Ordinary pirates, can, and are illiterate, and not чтут laws, but to the Brotherhood to prosper, this вольнице, the judge and the clerk, differently is necessary - how to understand when you put a dagger under the contract, what it not the order to hitch up you on a yard?
- Then it you are an author of the well-known Code?
"Suntanned the captain" has turned away and the steering wheel took stronger - has flown a head wind, sails have begun to clap.
- There is no time me with you here shari-cook to celebrate! To me not sick themes - reeves to bypass! You are employed by the sailor - so yes work! If now we will not pass this passage - we will get stuck god knows how much, and even in general will cover Bezvremenem!
- So it is dangerous? - Bezil has doubted, but a schooner so has shaken that it would depart for a board, don't grasp it at the last minute yes a strong, suntanned and hairy hand of the captain: - And you thought? My "Swallow" is easy, as скорлупка, but back at it, forgive My God, as at the kind Portland mulatto. If under килем less than two foots - for sure we will sit down on a bank!!
The wind terribly howled, waves filled in a deck, water streams touched a jib. The ship заскреб the bottom on sand, Bartolomju alternately blasphemed and prayed, but the steering wheel hasn't let out. The ship has still moved aside, has tilted on the right board, he has shuddered, and smoothly-smoothly as if from palms of the potter, it was leveled and left in free waters. Weather was changed again, the wind has persistently, exactly blown from the east. The captain has become cheerful, has relaxed, has pressed to lips any relic, like a dagger with beads.
- Oh, a rascal! - has shaken finger at happily passed place. Бэзил has looked and has half-risen: there, where a minute ago there was a passage, let narrow and superficial, extensively to horizon the sandy desert lasted.
- But, as...
- Bezvremene. Мироедовы features. Happens, will bite off the half-moon. Or the sun will steal. Now you understand, мореплаванье - an artful science? Sometimes on a vessel there is no thing more usefully a shovel. Завязнешь in ways of hours on eight, on pair days - you go to dig out anchors.
Whether in model has put? In paints? In him?
Curiosity, freethinking, idleness. All it has ruined not one cat. As though so to fall, henceforth to be saved from bruises and dislocations? Straws to spread - whether you will be in time? It is good, what Lenor has allowed time to consider, weigh and doubly - that has allowed to get a conductor, yes, now and won't think - where without it? How? Nice, словноохотливый captain Bartolomju!
- Your troubles are familiar to me.
- Truth?
- I the such.
- Yes it is fine?!
- Aha. No to stop on reached, to be dug round, take root, all something drives me forward and afar, to a storm as if there there is a rest or that is better.
- But what then at you secrets, for what to you such service?
- Once I to someone have lost. Such explanation will arrange?
- About what there was a speech?
- About lie and truth. That the sweet lie always has weight in a society where больший, than a homespun truth.
- But it so.
- And how True? It would be a shame to me to recognize true the statement about lie. And, butt its fish-rhinoceros, my opponent has appointed to me such forfeit! To serve as Haronom until...
- Somebody by kindness of sincere and human nonsense won't accept at you a steering wheel?.
- Lja as these ancient baizes are annoying! I remember, still Uliss got me... No! Till that time while somebody won't believe that it and is my choice that I am engaged in it not self-interest for the sake of that I it only and live! Faugh, has tired. Be I the simple Catholic - has spat in a snout crafty and veins to itself, a grief without knowing.
- And what not so? It not truth?
- However, here to you a cross.
- But for all time any soul hasn't believed?
- Imagine, any. Yes behind an example it is not necessary to go far.
In someone the friend Varfolomey already would drill a sight two accurate holes, but Bezil Holluord when in a captivity at Muses, it after all on the such doesn't distract. Therefore has blurted out, without having thought, the first that was sprained on language:
- I am not assured absolutely not that you are a person.
- Have got into a mess. Here it, nasty релятивистика. Perhaps you deny even own existence? I thought, have found wonderful hack-work, I will treat you, as two fingers about asphalt...
- And there are days when empty you dangle?
The corsair? A privateer?
Э. I would prefer more peace names of my trade. I the navigator, the pilot. I and flies haven't killed for all my long, I repent, a stormy life.
Lunar eclipse.
Lenore, it after all such inventor! It has given to the poor artist a tire cover, an oar and a flag of Great Britain, earlier presented to it commodore Norringtonom. But, alas, she has absolutely forgotten about a compass! However, Bezila it didn't worry at all. It with escalating enthusiasm rowed. At the full calm, the flag punched by a case-shot fluttered and clapped - such current of air was created by the goer on a tire cover. The main thing that hasn't beaten to an island to a freebie - was endured by us, I and the reader. But isn't present, not that case.
Sooner or later the artist floated, but has met at open ocean м-м... The Mirage? The stranger in black that flied in semimeter over a water surface, sitting on a two-wheeled circus bicycle, whose forward wheel was four times more back. The odd person has raised a hat-kettle, welcoming Bezila.
- You me, truly, don't remember, mister Holluord, and, the right, so much all happens, was started turning, тыц-вжик-бум-хрясь-шварк-бултых- as not to concentrate properly.
- You are a vagrant dealer?
- E-e-e... - the black bicyclist, appear, has become puzzled that it so, to a descent, have opened. - means, all the same remember. I WILDLY APOLOGIZE, but there was a discrepancy with colours...
- With what colours?
- Well, remember, in Spidery Tupichke, it was devilishly dark, you the torrential rain hurried up, has begun... Remember? - This time in a voice of the stranger the faint hope was heard.
- No, - Bezil has plied the oars.
- Where they now?!
- Who?
- Paints! My paints! I have put to you in the dark not that package! It were the unique goods, piece, under the order. Me know then as abused? Light such not видывал, and how many to light of years! These paints were prepared by the blind Black and drunk old women for Great Ieronima from the cat's tear, traces of the executioner, lunar patches of light and a frost saliva.
- What for bosh you grind? Don't disturb to me - I go in creative коммандировку.
And Bezil quickly also has easily overtaken the angry direct-sales representative. So it was pleasant to it on oars, as sowing on a bank, he hasn't thrown them. Some time it and overland moved on a tire cover, has overcome an isthmus, passage, again left to open water and - at last - has moored to unknown, marvelously fine coast. Has lifted a look and has gasped. Has broken suffocating шарфик, has thrown off boots, a jacket and a vest, has rolled up sleeves - and undertook a palette. To draw. Urgently. As air. Фаршик has rocked on waves and has whisked a stream-river-sea currents - in a known direction. And a tire cover of Bezil has hidden under a pebble. Whether a little, it is useful. Also hasn't regretted Bezil лапничка.
At the young man cornflower-blue clear eyes, eyebrows вразлет and such is melancholic-angry sponges of color of caramel. Thin as a willow twig, same elastic and strong by sight, but such pale skin that seems transparent. The poor boy - in this city of light doesn't see, here everything as in London, from children to aged men, are amazed by a consumption and poverty, vanish in a hole of hopeless deaf melancholy. They know, undesired children of northern fogs that are born in a pain, are put in зыбку illnesses, their share is dictated by severe laws is an intolerable penal servitude, slavery and usages, near to which simple predatoriness - angelic favor. Soon this back will be bent, the voice will coarsen also fire in eyes will get metal shine, and even will go out. Don't result god! Бэзил wasn't overzealous about the predicted future. He hasn't grown in a flower bed with a crystal roof, to rather unseemly history with a portrait of this whimsical nouveau riche Д.Г. излазил all holes of the London bottom, about, this foul place, bible executions passed it!
No, speech not about brothels and crowds of the idlers unbridled and blind in boldness. No. The thing where is more terrible - he saw the Industry beginning of the century when people and subjects lost names and persons. It wondered, there would be he itself(himself), exchange it life with one of steelmakers or turners? It and pulled away from салонной, prudish painting somewhere at night, in wood, on factory, in a dust, oil. Whether there was it the idle parasite when coal and жженой умбры on light left, tirelessly, here now seize and touch, smiling and gloomy, strained for a throw and strained from exhaustion? And it felt - here the logic, the esthetics, feeling of a place and the debt, the weighed experience. But all - another, far, curious. Ah, my God store the queen!! Whether it was distinguished in it by Dorian, has played on this disastrous broken line? It had something the general with these children pulled on earnings from backwoods. Responsiveness, sharp mind and freshness of judgements, hot aspiration to live and absorb all new. To what pretty it was, and to what insatiable monster has turned, unrestrained, greedy and cruel.
The young man-model behaved modestly and has seemed is thoughtful-sad. No, he laughed to jokes, at all without false constraint, easily stirred, if Bezil began conversation. But in the rest of the time as if addressed in itself, having hung a head, listened to something inaccessible to a look and an ear of the stranger. Took the money and left, and Bezil till the morning looked through etudes, feeling strange, zybko-chilly anxiety. Something burned down and pricked, and escaped.
- Я. I will soon die.
- Well, clearly. And medicines will help you to recover?
- No. They only will slow down leaving.
- It will be a pity to leave, - the artist has bitterly sighed, postponing a palette and brushes, has risen, has approached close-close, took a palm of the young man in the. - you it is heavy now, I know. Will be still горше. But, believe, I won't refuse, on a step I will not depart, I will be with you up to the end.
- But why? Ah, because of that unpleasant case about which you to me in any way won't tell, all half-words yes subterfuge? You want to be rehabilitated in own eyes, to repay a debt? Then it is not necessary to me to such favor.
- No, no, I really want to help you in a hard time. Я. I Feel that you feel, of what think.
- And what, if I am a swindler and simply a deceit I will pocket your money?
- Name me old-fashioned, I trust, such things not game.
To evening of next day of the water-transport worker turn from the models, lasting from street to studio Holluorda doors. And each hungry, poor student that evening became happy. Has refused to nobody. All has accepted, has listened and as could, has encouraged. Hands grew dumb, in a head there was a rumble of voices, feet were confused, in eyes рябило, but he with inspiration drew, for a second without throwing business. Has sold all. There were walls, a folding bed and an easel. Tea drank at the neighbor, the citizen with a dog, a medal and talent to imitate nature sounds. One turned in thoughts: "Let you will leave, but in this cloth you won't die away, and will live eternally in the hearts of people" - and cautiously glanced at a box from the exorcised paints, without daring to use them.
Бэзил stood, the wanderer, with the press of noble grief on the person; habitues of Mon-Martra, раззявав a mitten, examined the wild landscapes painted by its brush (about, наимакароннейшей a right hand). Бэзил just didn't let out a luminescence that there and then would allow to canonize it for was a conclusive sign of its martyrdom and богоизбранности. Suddenly - in a window flies фаршик: it has returned! Бэзил catches it, for a second plunges into memoirs, coolly vanities in a jacket pocket. And then - forgets on a hook in a hall...
THE END
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