CHAPTER 8 Oliver Puts on His Old Cl

CHAPTER 8 Oliver Puts on His Old Clothes Again
Oliver Twist marched on, as quickly as he could, with the books under his arm. He was walking along, thinking how happy he was, when he was startled by a young woman screaming out very loud. ‘Oh, my dear brother!’ And she threw her arms tight round his neck.
‘Let me go!’ cried Oliver, struggling. ‘Who are you?’
The only reply to this was a great number of loud words from the young woman, who was embracing him, and who had a little basket in her hand.
‘Oh, my dear little brother!’ said the young woman, ‘I have found him! Oh! Oliver! Oliver! Oh you naughty boy! Come home, dear, come. Oh, I’ve found him!’ With these exclamations, the young woman burst into another fit of crying, and got so dreadfully hysterical, that a couple of women who came up at the moment asked a butcher’s boy whether he didn’t think he had better run for the doctor.
‘Oh, no, no, never mind,’ said the young woman, grasping Oliver’s hand; ‘I’m better now. He ran away, near a month ago, from his parents, who are hard-working and respectable people. He almost broke his mother’s heart.’
‘Young wretch!’ said one woman.
‘I am not,’ replied Oliver, greatly alarmed. ‘1 don’t know her. I haven’t any sister, or father and mother either. I’m an orphan; I live at Pentonville.’
‘Go home, you little brute,’ said the other.
‘Why, it’s Nancy!’ exclaimed Oliver; who now saw her face for the first time.
‘You see, he knows me!’ cried Nancy, appealing to the bystanders. ‘Make him come home, or he’ll kill his dear mother and father, and break my heart!’
‘What’s going on?’ said a man, bursting out of a beer-shop, with a white dog at his heels; ‘young Oliver! Come home to your poor mother, you young dog! Come home directly.’
‘I don’t know them. Help! Help!’ cried Oliver, struggling in the man’s powerful hands.
^Help!’ repeated the man. ‘Yes; I’ll help you! What books are these? You’ve stolen them! Give them here.’ With these words, the man tore the volumes from Oliver’s hands, and struck him on the head.
‘That’s right!’ cried one of the women. ‘That’s the only way of bringing him to his senses!’
‘It’ll do him good!’ said the other.
‘Oh, yes, it’ll do him good!’ said the man, giving another blow and seizing Oliver by the collar. ‘Come on, you young villain! Here, Bull’s-eye, mind him, boy! Mind him!’
Wfeak with recent illness; stupefied by the blows and the suddenness of the attack; terrified by the fierce growling of the dog, and the brutality of the man; overpowered by the conviction of the bystanders that he really was the hardened little wretch; what could one poor child do! Darkness had set in; no help was near. Oliver saw that resistance would be of no use.
The gas-lamps were lighted; Mrs. Bedwin was waiting anxiously at the open door. The servant ran up the street twenty times to see if there were any traces of Oliver. And still the two old gentlemen sat in the dark parlour, with the watch between them.
Turning to Oliver, Sikes roughly commanded him to take hold of Nancy’s hand.
‘Do you hear?’ growled Sikes, as Oliver hesitated, and looked round.
They were in a dark corner, quite out of the track of passengers.
The boy held out his hand, which Nancy clasped tight in hers.
‘Give me the other,’ said Sikes, seizing Oliver’s unoccupied hand. ‘Here, Bull’s-Eye!’
The dog looked up, and growled.
‘See here, boy!’ said Sikes, putting his other hand to Oliver’s throat; ‘if he utters a word, hold him!’
Bull’s-eye growled again and, licking his lips, eyed Oliver attentively.
The night was dark and foggy. The heavy mist thickened every moment. They walked on. At length they turned into a very filthy narrow street full of oid-clothes shops. The dog stopped before the door of a shop that was closed. ‘All right,’ cried Sikes, glancing cautiously about. Oliver heard the sound of a bell. They crossed to the opposite side of the street, and stood for a few moments under a lamp. A noise was heard, and soon afterwards the door softly opened. Bill Sikes seized the terrified boy by the collar, and all three were quickly inside the house.
‘Anybody here?’ inquired Sikes.
s
‘No,’ replied a voice, which seemed familiar to Oliver. The footsteps of the speaker were heard; and, in another minute, the form of Mr. John Dawkins, otherwise the Artful Dodger, appeared He had a candle in his right hand.
The Dodger did not stop to show any other mark of recognition upon Oliver than a humourous grin. They crossed an empty kitchen; and, opening the door of a low earthy-smelling room, were received with a shout of laughter.
‘Oh, here he is!’ cried Master Charles Bates. ‘Oh, here he is! Oh, Fagin, look at him! Fagin, do look at him! I can’t bear it. 1 cant’ bear it. Hold me, somebody, while 1 laugh it out.’
With these words Charley Bates laid himself flat on the floor and kicked convulsively for five minutes. Then he jumped to his feet and viewed Oliver round and round. ‘Delighted to see you looking so well, my dear,’ said Fagin, taking off his nightcap, and made a great number of low bows to the bewildered boy.
‘The Artful Dodger will give you another suit, my dear, for fear you can spoil that Sunday one. Why didn’t you write, my dear, and say you were coming?’
At this, Charley Bates roared again so loud, that even the Dodger smiled. At that instant the Artful drew out the five-pound note from Oliver’s pocket.
‘Hallo, what’s that?’ inquired Sikes, stepping forward as the old man seized the note. ‘That’s mine, Fagin.’
‘No, no, my dear, this is not fair, Bill,’ said the old man. ‘Mine, Bill, mine. You have the books.’
‘Fair, or not fair,’ retorted Sikes, ‘hand over, I tell you! Do you think Nancy and me have got nothing else to do with our precibus time but to spend it in scouting and kidnapping? Give it here, you old skeleton, give it here!’ With this Sikes plucked the note from between the old man’s finger and thumb; and, looking the old man coolly in the face, folded it up small, and tied it in his neckerchief.
‘That’s for our share of the trouble,’ said Sikes; ‘You may keep the books, if you’re fond of reading. If you are not, sell them.’
‘They belong to the old gentleman,’ said Oliver; ‘to the good, kind, old gentleman who took me into his house, and nursed, when I was dying of the fever. Oh, send them back; send him back the books and money. Keep me here all my life long; but please, please send them back. He’ll think I stole them; the old lady: all of them who were so kind to me. They all will think I stole them. Oh, do have mercy upon me, and send them back!’
With these words, which were uttered with all the energy of passionate grief, Oliver fell upon his knees at Fagin’s feet.
The boy’s right,’ remarked Fagin. ‘You’re right, Oliver, you’re right; they WILL think you have stolen them. Ha! Ha!’ chuckled the old man, rubbing his hands.
Oliver jumped suddenly to his feet, and rushed wildly out of the room: uttering shrieks for help, which made the bare old house echo to the roof.
‘Keep back the dog, Bill!’ cried Nancy, springing before the door, and closing it. ‘Keep back the dog; he’ll tear the boy to pieces.’
‘It’ll serve him right!’ cried Sikes. ‘Stand off from me, or I’ll split your head against the wall.’
‘I don’t care for that, Bill, 1 don’t care for that,’ screamed the girl, struggling violently with the man, ‘the child won’t be tom to pieces by the dog, unless you kill me first.’
‘He won’t! I’ll soon do that, if you don’t keep off.’ Sikes pushed the girl from him to the further end of the room, just as Fagin and the two boys returned, dragging Oliver among them.
‘What’s the matter here!’ said Fagin, looking round.
‘The girl’s gone mad, I think,’ replied Sikes, savagely.
‘No, she hasn’t,’ said Nancy, pale and breathless; ‘no, she hasn’t, Fagin!’
‘Then keep quiet, will you?’ said the old man with a threatening look.
‘So you wanted to get away, my dear, did you?’ said Fagin quickly. ‘Wanted to get assistance; called for the police; did you?’ sneered the old man, catching the boy by the arm. ‘We’ll cure you of that, my dear,’ said Fagin and gave a smart blow on Oliver’s shoulders with his club. He was raising it for a second, when the girl, rushing forward, wrested it from his hand. She flung it into the fire, with a force that brought some of the glowing coals whirling out into the room.
‘I won’t stand by and see it, Fagin,’ cried the girl. ‘You’ve got the boy, haven’t you?’
The girl stamped her foot violently on the floor and with her lips compressed, and her hands clenched, looked at the old man and the other robber. Her face was quite colourless from the passion of rage.
'Why, Nancy!’ said Fagin in a soothing tone. ‘Ha! Ha! My dear, you are acting beautifully.’
‘Am I?’ said the girl. ‘Take care I don’t overdo it.’
‘What do you mean by this?’ said Sikes; ‘What do you mean by it? Do you know who you are, and what you are?’
‘Oh, yes, I know all about it,’ replied the girl, laughing hysterically and shaking her head from side to side.
‘Well, then, keep quiet,’ uttered Sikes, with a growl like that he was accustomed to use when addressing his dog, ‘or I’ll quiet you for a good long time.’
‘Come, come, Sikes,’ said the old man. ‘We must have civil words; civil words, Bill.’
‘Civil words!’ cried the girl, whose passion was frightful to see. ‘Civil words, you villain! I stole for you when I was a child not half as old as this!’ said Nancy, pointing to Oliver.
‘Wfell, well,’ replied Fagin; ‘and, if you have, it’s your living!’ ‘It is!’ returned the girl; not speaking, but pouring out the words in one continuous scream. ‘It is my living; and the cold, wet, dirty streets are my home; and you’re the wretch that drove me to them long ago, and that’ll keep me there, day and night, day and night, till I die!’
The girl said nothing

Результаты (русский) 1:

Глава 8 Оливер кладет на его старую одежду сноваОливер Твист маршировали дальше, так же быстро, как он мог с книгами под его рукой. Он шел вдоль, думая, как счастлив он был, когда он был поражен молодая женщина, очень громко кричать. ' О, мой дорогой брат!» И она бросила руки туго вокруг его шеи.«Отпусти меня!» воскликнул Оливер, изо всех сил. «Кто ты?»Единственный ответ на это было большое количество громких слов от молодой женщины, которая обнимая его, и кто был немного корзины в руке.' О, мой дорогой маленький брат!» сказала молодая женщина ' я нашел его! Ох! Оливер! Оливер! Oh непослушный мальчик! Приходите домой, дорогая, приходите. Ой, я нашел его!' С этими восклицания, молодая женщина ворвались в другую fit Крика и получил так ужасно истерика, несколько женщин, которые пришли в настоящее время спросил мясной мальчик ли он не думаю, что он лучше баллотироваться врача.' Да, нет, нет, не обращайте внимания,' сказала молодая женщина, схватив Оливер руку; "Я лучше сейчас. Он убежал, около месяца назад, с его родителями, трудолюбивый и респектабельных людей. Он чуть не сломал его матери сердце.»«Молодой негодяй!» сказала одна женщина.«Я,» ответил Оливер, сильно встревожена. ' 1 не знаю ее. Я не любой сестра, или отец и мать либо. Я сирота; Я живу в Пентонвилла.'«Идите домой, вы немного грубой,» сказал другой.«Почему, это Нэнси!» воскликнул Оливер; Теперь, кто видел ее лицо в первый раз.‘You see, he knows me!’ cried Nancy, appealing to the bystanders. ‘Make him come home, or he’ll kill his dear mother and father, and break my heart!’‘What’s going on?’ said a man, bursting out of a beer-shop, with a white dog at his heels; ‘young Oliver! Come home to your poor mother, you young dog! Come home directly.’‘I don’t know them. Help! Help!’ cried Oliver, struggling in the man’s powerful hands.^Help!’ repeated the man. ‘Yes; I’ll help you! What books are these? You’ve stolen them! Give them here.’ With these words, the man tore the volumes from Oliver’s hands, and struck him on the head.‘That’s right!’ cried one of the women. ‘That’s the only way of bringing him to his senses!’‘It’ll do him good!’ said the other.‘Oh, yes, it’ll do him good!’ said the man, giving another blow and seizing Oliver by the collar. ‘Come on, you young villain! Here, Bull’s-eye, mind him, boy! Mind him!’Wfeak with recent illness; stupefied by the blows and the suddenness of the attack; terrified by the fierce growling of the dog, and the brutality of the man; overpowered by the conviction of the bystanders that he really was the hardened little wretch; what could one poor child do! Darkness had set in; no help was near. Oliver saw that resistance would be of no use.The gas-lamps were lighted; Mrs. Bedwin was waiting anxiously at the open door. The servant ran up the street twenty times to see if there were any traces of Oliver. And still the two old gentlemen sat in the dark parlour, with the watch between them.Turning to Oliver, Sikes roughly commanded him to take hold of Nancy’s hand.‘Do you hear?’ growled Sikes, as Oliver hesitated, and looked round.They were in a dark corner, quite out of the track of passengers.The boy held out his hand, which Nancy clasped tight in hers.‘Give me the other,’ said Sikes, seizing Oliver’s unoccupied hand. ‘Here, Bull’s-Eye!’The dog looked up, and growled.‘See here, boy!’ said Sikes, putting his other hand to Oliver’s throat; ‘if he utters a word, hold him!’Bull’s-eye growled again and, licking his lips, eyed Oliver attentively.The night was dark and foggy. The heavy mist thickened every moment. They walked on. At length they turned into a very filthy narrow street full of oid-clothes shops. The dog stopped before the door of a shop that was closed. ‘All right,’ cried Sikes, glancing cautiously about. Oliver heard the sound of a bell. They crossed to the opposite side of the street, and stood for a few moments under a lamp. A noise was heard, and soon afterwards the door softly opened. Bill Sikes seized the terrified boy by the collar, and all three were quickly inside the house.‘Anybody here?’ inquired Sikes.s‘No,’ replied a voice, which seemed familiar to Oliver. The footsteps of the speaker were heard; and, in another minute, the form of Mr. John Dawkins, otherwise the Artful Dodger, appeared He had a candle in his right hand.The Dodger did not stop to show any other mark of recognition upon Oliver than a humourous grin. They crossed an empty kitchen; and, opening the door of a low earthy-smelling room, were received with a shout of laughter.‘Oh, here he is!’ cried Master Charles Bates. ‘Oh, here he is! Oh, Fagin, look at him! Fagin, do look at him! I can’t bear it. 1 cant’ bear it. Hold me, somebody, while 1 laugh it out.’With these words Charley Bates laid himself flat on the floor and kicked convulsively for five minutes. Then he jumped to his feet and viewed Oliver round and round. ‘Delighted to see you looking so well, my dear,’ said Fagin, taking off his nightcap, and made a great number of low bows to the bewildered boy.‘The Artful Dodger will give you another suit, my dear, for fear you can spoil that Sunday one. Why didn’t you write, my dear, and say you were coming?’At this, Charley Bates roared again so loud, that even the Dodger smiled. At that instant the Artful drew out the five-pound note from Oliver’s pocket.‘Hallo, what’s that?’ inquired Sikes, stepping forward as the old man seized the note. ‘That’s mine, Fagin.’‘No, no, my dear, this is not fair, Bill,’ said the old man. ‘Mine, Bill, mine. You have the books.’
‘Fair, or not fair,’ retorted Sikes, ‘hand over, I tell you! Do you think Nancy and me have got nothing else to do with our precibus time but to spend it in scouting and kidnapping? Give it here, you old skeleton, give it here!’ With this Sikes plucked the note from between the old man’s finger and thumb; and, looking the old man coolly in the face, folded it up small, and tied it in his neckerchief.
‘That’s for our share of the trouble,’ said Sikes; ‘You may keep the books, if you’re fond of reading. If you are not, sell them.’
‘They belong to the old gentleman,’ said Oliver; ‘to the good, kind, old gentleman who took me into his house, and nursed, when I was dying of the fever. Oh, send them back; send him back the books and money. Keep me here all my life long; but please, please send them back. He’ll think I stole them; the old lady: all of them who were so kind to me. They all will think I stole them. Oh, do have mercy upon me, and send them back!’
With these words, which were uttered with all the energy of passionate grief, Oliver fell upon his knees at Fagin’s feet.
The boy’s right,’ remarked Fagin. ‘You’re right, Oliver, you’re right; they WILL think you have stolen them. Ha! Ha!’ chuckled the old man, rubbing his hands.
Oliver jumped suddenly to his feet, and rushed wildly out of the room: uttering shrieks for help, which made the bare old house echo to the roof.
‘Keep back the dog, Bill!’ cried Nancy, springing before the door, and closing it. ‘Keep back the dog; he’ll tear the boy to pieces.’
‘It’ll serve him right!’ cried Sikes. ‘Stand off from me, or I’ll split your head against the wall.’
‘I don’t care for that, Bill, 1 don’t care for that,’ screamed the girl, struggling violently with the man, ‘the child won’t be tom to pieces by the dog, unless you kill me first.’
‘He won’t! I’ll soon do that, if you don’t keep off.’ Sikes pushed the girl from him to the further end of the room, just as Fagin and the two boys returned, dragging Oliver among them.
‘What’s the matter here!’ said Fagin, looking round.
‘The girl’s gone mad, I think,’ replied Sikes, savagely.
‘No, she hasn’t,’ said Nancy, pale and breathless; ‘no, she hasn’t, Fagin!’
‘Then keep quiet, will you?’ said the old man with a threatening look.
‘So you wanted to get away, my dear, did you?’ said Fagin quickly. ‘Wanted to get assistance; called for the police; did you?’ sneered the old man, catching the boy by the arm. ‘We’ll cure you of that, my dear,’ said Fagin and gave a smart blow on Oliver’s shoulders with his club. He was raising it for a second, when the girl, rushing forward, wrested it from his hand. She flung it into the fire, with a force that brought some of the glowing coals whirling out into the room.
‘I won’t stand by and see it, Fagin,’ cried the girl. ‘You’ve got the boy, haven’t you?’
The girl stamped her foot violently on the floor and with her lips compressed, and her hands clenched, looked at the old man and the other robber. Her face was quite colourless from the passion of rage.
'Why, Nancy!’ said Fagin in a soothing tone. ‘Ha! Ha! My dear, you are acting beautifully.’
‘Am I?’ said the girl. ‘Take care I don’t overdo it.’
‘What do you mean by this?’ said Sikes; ‘What do you mean by it? Do you know who you are, and what you are?’
‘Oh, yes, I know all about it,’ replied the girl, laughing hysterically and shaking her head from side to side.
‘Well, then, keep quiet,’ uttered Sikes, with a growl like that he was accustomed to use when addressing his dog, ‘or I’ll quiet you for a good long time.’
‘Come, come, Sikes,’ said the old man. ‘We must have civil words; civil words, Bill.’
‘Civil words!’ cried the girl, whose passion was frightful to see. ‘Civil words, you villain! I stole for you when I was a child not half as old as this!’ said Nancy, pointing to Oliver.
‘Wfell, well,’ replied Fagin; ‘and, if you have, it’s your living!’ ‘It is!’ returned the girl; not speaking, but pouring out the words in one continuous scream. ‘It is my living; and the cold, wet, dirty streets are my home; and you’re the wretch that drove me to them long ago, and that’ll keep me there, day and night, day and night, till I die!’
The girl said nothing

Результаты (русский) 3:

глава 8 оливер надевает его старую одежду сноваоливер твист ", так же быстро, как он может, с книгами под рукой.он шел вдоль, думая о том, как он счастлив был, когда он был поражен, когда молодая женщина кричала очень громко."о, мой дорогой брат!"и она бросила ее руками крепко на шее.- пусти меня!"плакала, оливер, борется.- кто вы?"только в ответ на это было большое количество громких слов из молодая женщина, которая разделяет его и который был немного корзины в руке."о, мой дорогой брат!"сказал, что молодая женщина, я нашел его!о!оливер!оливер!о, ты плохой мальчик!иди домой, дорогая, иди.о, я нашел его!"с этими возгласами, молодая женщина ворвалась в другой жизни плакать, и меня подобным образом в истерике, что несколько женщин, которые пришли на данный момент спрашивает мясника мальчик ли он не думает, что он лучше беги за доктором."о, нет, нет, не стоит, - говорит молодая женщина, схватив за руку, оливер, я лучше.он сбежал, почти месяц назад, его родители, трудолюбивые и уважаемых людей.он почти разбила его сердце матери "."молодой негодяй!"сказал, что одна женщина."я не являюсь, - ответил оливер, большую тревогу."я ее не знаю.у меня нет сестры, или отец и мать тоже.я сирота, я живу в пентонвилле. ""иди домой, звереныш, - сказал другой."почему, это нэнси!- воскликнула оливер, который сейчас видела ее лицо впервые."вы видите, он меня знает!"плакала, нэнси, привлекательным для прохожих."сделать его домой, или он убьёт его дорогие мама и папа, и разбить мое сердце!""что происходит?"сказали, что человек, растущее из пивной магазин, с белым собака на ногах; - молодой, оливер!иди домой к своей бедной матери, вы, молодые, собака!иди домой, прямо "."я их не знаю.помогите!помогите!"плакала, оливер, стараясь в его сильные руки."помогите!"неоднократные человек.- да, я помогу тебе!то, что эти книги?ты воришка!дай их сюда. - с этими словами, мужчина, порвали тома от оливера руки, и ударил его по голове."верно!- воскликнула одна из женщин."это единственный способ вернуть его в чувство!""это будет делать его хорошо!"- сказал другой.- о, да, это принесет ему хорошо!сказал человек, дает еще один удар и захват оливер за воротник."давай, вы, молодые, злодей!здесь, в яблочко, успокойся, парень!против его!"wfeak с недавней болезни; ошеломленный под ударами и внезапность нападения, в ужасе от ожесточенных рычит на собаку, и жестокость человек; один из убеждения, от прохожих, что он действительно был способен маленький негодяй, что может один бедный ребенок!тьма, привели в; никакой помощи был рядом.оливер, увидел, что сопротивление будет бесполезно.газовые фонари были освещены, миссис бэдуин ждал с нетерпением в открытую дверь.слуга бежал вверх по улице в двадцать раз, чтобы увидеть, если не было никаких следов оливера.и еще две пожилые джентльмены сидел в темноте гостиной, с "между ними.переходя к оливеру, сайкс примерно велел ему занимать нэнси руку."ты слышишь?"рычал, сайкс, как оливер колебался, и оглянулся.они были в темном углу, совсем из колеи пассажиров.мальчик протянул руку, что нэнси как крепко в ее."дай мне другой", - говорит сайкс, захватив оливера пассажиров."здесь, в яблочко!"собака взглянула, и рычал."смотри сюда, мальчик!"говорит сайкс, ставя его, с другой стороны, оливер рот; если он произносит слова, держи его!"в яблочко рычал, снова и снова, облизывая его губы, глаза оливер внимательно.ночь темна и туман.тяжелый туман утолщение каждый момент.они шли по.в длину они превратились в очень грязные узкие улицы, полный OID магазинов одежды.собака перестала до двери магазина, который был закрыт."все в порядке, - воскликнул сайкс, взглянув осторожно.оливер слышал звук колокола.они перешли на другую сторону улицы, и выступает за несколько минут под лампой.шум был слышен, и вскоре после этого дверь не открыл.билл сайкс захватили в ужасе мальчика за воротник, и все трое были быстро в дом."кто здесь?"интересуется, сайкс.S"нет, - ответил голос, который казался знакомым, оливер.по следам выступления были услышаны, и в еще одну минуту, формы, г - на джона докинс, в противном случае Artful Dodger, появилась у него свечу в правой руке.плута не останавливается, чтобы показать любой другой знак признания на оливера, чем humourous улыбкой.они пересекли пустой кухня; и открывает двери низкой земной запах в комнате, были получены с криком смеха."о, вот и он!воскликнул мастер чарльз бейтс."о, вот и он!о, феджин, посмотрите на него!фаджин, не смотри на него!я не могу это вынести.1 не несут.обними меня, кто - нибудь, а 1 смеяться это. "при этих словах чарли бейтс заложил квартиру на себя.