Дублинцы

           Whydidtheyneverplaythegrandoldoperasnow,heasked,Dinorah,LucreziaBorgia?Becausetheycouldnotgetthevoicestosingthem:thatwaswhy.

           “Oh,well,”saidMr.BartellD’Arcy,“Ipresumethereareasgoodsingerstodayastherewerethen.”

           “Wherearethey?”askedMr.Brownedefiantly.

           “InLondon,Paris,Milan,”saidMr.BartellD’Arcywarmly.“IsupposeCaruso,forexample,isquiteasgood,ifnotbetterthananyofthemenyouhavementioned.”

           “Maybeso,”saidMr.Browne.“ButImaytellyouIdoubtitstrongly.”

           “O,I’dgiveanythingtohearCarusosing,”saidMaryJane.

           “Forme,”saidAuntKate,whohadbeenpickingabone,“therewasonlyonetenor.Topleaseme,Imean.ButIsupposenoneofyoueverheardofhim.”

           “Whowashe,MissMorkan?”askedMr.BartellD’Arcypolitely.

           “Hisname,”saidAuntKate,“wasParkinson.IheardhimwhenhewasinhisprimeandIthinkhehadthenthepuresttenorvoicethatwaseverputintoaman’sthroat.”

           “Strange,”saidMr.BartellD’Arcy.“Ineverevenheardofhim.”

           “Yes,yes,MissMorkanisright,”saidMr.Browne.“IrememberhearingofoldParkinsonbuthe’stoofarbackforme.”

           “Abeautiful,pure,sweet,mellowEnglishtenor,”saidAuntKatewithenthusiasm.