Английский язык с Крестным Отцом
Шрифт:
the millions of Neapolitans and other Italians in this country.
"For this reason I forgo my vengeance for my dead son, for the common good. I
swear now that as long as I am responsible for the actions of my Family there will not be
one finger lifted against any man here without just cause and utmost provocation. I am
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willing to sacrifice my commercial interests for the common good. This is my word, this
is my honor, there are those of you here who know I have never betrayed either.
"But I have a selfish interest. My youngest son had to flee, accused of Sollozzo's
murder and that of a police captain. I must now make arrangements so that he can
come home with safety, cleared of all those false charges. That is my affair and I will
make those arrangements. I must find the real culprits (culprit –
преступник, виновный ['klprit]) perhaps, or perhaps I must convince the authorities of
his innocence, perhaps the witnesses and informants will recant (отрекаться,
отказываться от своего мнения [ri'kжnt]) their lies. But again I say that this is my affair
and I believe I will be able to bring my son home.
"But let me say this. I am a superstitious man, a ridiculous failing but I must confess it
here. And so if some unlucky accident should befall my youngest son, if some police
officer should accidentally shoot him, if he should hang himself in his cell, if new
witnesses appear to testify to his guilt, my superstition will make me feel that it was the
result of the ill will still borne me by some people here. Let me go further. If my son is
struck by a bolt of lightning I will blame some of the people here. If his plane should fall
into the sea or his ship sink beneath the waves of the ocean, if he should catch a mortal
fever, if his automobile should be struck by a train, such is my superstition that I would
blame the ill will felt by people here. Gentlemen, that ill will, that bad luck, I could never
forgive. But aside from that let me swear by the souls of my grandchildren that I will
never break the peace we have made. After all, are we or are we not better men than
those pezzonovanti who have killed countless millions of men in our lifetimes?"
With this Don Corleone stepped from his place and went down the table to where Don
Phillip Tattaglia was sitting. Tattaglia rose to greet him and the two men embraced,
kissing each other's cheeks. The other Dons in the room applauded and rose to shake
hands with everybody in sight and to congratulate Don Corleone and Don Tattaglia on
their new friendship. It was not perhaps the warmest friendship in the world, they would
not send each other Christmas gift greetings, but they would not murder each other.
That was friendship enough in this world, all that was needed.
Since his son Freddie was under the protection of the Molinari Family in the West,
Don Corleone lingered with the San Francisco Don after the meeting to thank him.
Molinari said enough for Don Corleone to gather that Freddie had found his niche out
there, was happy and had become something of a ladies' man. He had a genius for
running a hotel, it seemed. Don Corleone shook his head in wonder, as many fathers do
when told of undreamed-of talents in their children. Wasn't it true that sometimes the
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greatest misfortunes brought unforeseen rewards? They both agreed that this was so.
Meanwhile Corleone made it clear to the San Francisco Don that he was in his debt for
the great service done in protecting Freddie. He let it be known that his influence would
be exerted so that the important racing wires (проволока,
обозначающая финиш наскачках /под которую забегают кони на финише/) would always be available to his
people no matter what changes occurred in the power structure in the years to come, an
important guarantee since the struggle over this facility was a constant open wound
complicated by the fact that the Chicago people had their heavy hand in it. But Don
Corleone was not without influence even in that land of barbarians and so his promise
was a gift of gold.
It was evening before Don Corleone, Tom Hagen and the bodyguard-chauffeur, who
happened to be Rocco Lampone, arrived at the mall in Long Beach. When they went
into the house the Don said to Hagen, "Our driver, that man Lampone, keep an eye on
him. He's a fellow worth something better I think." Hagen wondered at this remark.
Lampone had not said a word all day, had not even glanced at the two men in the back
seat. He had opened the door for the Don, the car had been in front of the bank when
they emerged, he had done everything correctly but no more than any well-trained
chauffeur might do. Evidently the Don's eye had seen something he had not seen.
The Don dismissed Hagen and told him to come back to the house after supper. But
to take his time and rest a little since they would put in a long night of discussion. He
also told Hagen to have Clemenza and Tessio present. They should come at ten P.M.,
not before. Hagen was to brief Clemenza and Tessio on what had happened at the
meeting that afternoon.
At ten the Don was waiting for the three men in his office, the corner room of the
house with its law library and special phone. There was a tray with whiskey bottles, ice
and soda water. The Don gave his instructions.
"We made the peace this afternoon." he said. "I gave my word and my honor and that
should be enough for all of you. But our friends are not so trustworthy so let's all be on
our guard still. We don't want any more nasty little surprises." Then Don turned to