Межзвёздный скиталец
Chapter 11
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“SosaidtheyinoldRome,Pons,whenNeromadetorchesofthemtolighthissports.”
Ponsregardedmepityingly.
“Toomuchlearningisasickness,”hecomplained.“Iwasalwaysopposedtoit.Butyoumusthaveyourwillanddragmyoldbodyaboutwithyou—a-studyingastronomyandnumbersinVenice,poetryandalltheItalianfol-de-rolsinFlorence,andastrologyinPisa,andGodknowswhatinthatmadmancountryofGermany.Pishforthephilosophers!Itellyou,master,I,Pons,yourservant,apooroldmanwhoknowsnotaletterfromapike-staff—ItellyouGodlives,andthetimeyoushallappearbeforehimisshort.”Hepausedwithsuddenrecollection,andadded:“Heishere,thepriestyouspokeof.”
OntheinstantIrememberedmyengagement.
“Whydidyounottellmebefore?”Idemandedangrily.
“Whatdiditmatter?”Ponsshruggedhisshoulders.“Hashenotbeenwaitingtwohoursasitis?”
“Whydidn’tyoucallme?”
Heregardedmewithathoughtful,censoriouseye.
“Andyourollingtobedandshoutinglikechanticleer,‘Singcucu,singcucu,cucununucucu,singcucu,singcucu,singcucu,singcucu.