Повесть о двух городах / A Tale of Two Cities

At length the jackal had got together a compact repast for the lion, and proceeded to offer it to him. The lion took it with care and caution, made his selections from it, and his remarks upon it, and the jackal assisted both. When the repast was fully discussed, the lion put his hands in his waistband again, and lay down to mediate. The jackal then invigorated himself with a bum for his throttle, and a fresh application to his head, and applied himself to the collection of a second meal; this was administered to the lion in the same manner, and was not disposed of until the clocks struck three in the morning.

�And now we have done, Sydney, fill a bumper of punch,’ said Mr. Stryver.

The jackal removed the towels from his head, which had been steaming again, shook himself, yawned, shivered, and complied.

�You were very sound, Sydney, in the matter of those crown witnesses to-day. Every question told.’

�I always am sound; am I not?’

�I don’t gainsay it. What has roughened your temper? Put some punch to it and smooth it again.

With a deprecatory grunt, the jackal again complied.

�The old Sydney Carton of old Shrewsbury School,[69 - Shrewsbury School – учебное заведение в Шрузбери в графстве Шропшир, основано в XVI веке.]’ said Stryver, nodding his head over him as he reviewed him in the present and the past, �the old seesaw Sydney. Up one minute and down the next; now in spirits and now in despondency!’

�Ah!’ returned the other, sighing: �yes! The same Sydney, with the same luck.

�And why not?’

�God knows. It was my way, I suppose.’

He sat, with his hands in his pockets and his legs stretched out before him, looking at the fire.

�Carton,’ said his friend, squaring himself at him with a bullying air, as if the fire-grate had been the furnace in which sustained endeavour was forged, and the one delicate thing to be done for the old Sydney Carton of old Shrewsbury School was to shoulder him into it, �your way is, and always was, a lame way.

�Oh, botheration!’ returned Sydney, with a lighter and more good – humoured laugh, �don’t you be moral!’

�How have I done what I have done?’ said Stryver; �how do I do what I do?’

�Partly through paying me to help you, I suppose.