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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 607/859
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‘
Why
don
’
t
you
ask
the
gentleman
what
he
’
ll
take
?
’
‘
Dear
me
,
I
quite
forgot
,
’
replied
the
other
.
‘
What
will
you
take
,
sir
?
Will
you
take
port
wine
,
sir
,
or
sherry
wine
,
sir
?
I
can
recommend
the
ale
,
sir
;
or
perhaps
you
’
d
like
to
taste
the
porter
,
sir
?
Allow
me
to
have
the
felicity
of
hanging
up
your
nightcap
,
Sir
.
’
With
this
,
the
speaker
snatched
that
article
of
dress
from
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
head
,
and
fixed
it
in
a
twinkling
on
that
of
the
drunken
man
,
who
,
firmly
impressed
with
the
belief
that
he
was
delighting
a
numerous
assembly
,
continued
to
hammer
away
at
the
comic
song
in
the
most
melancholy
strains
imaginable
.
Taking
a
man
’
s
nightcap
from
his
brow
by
violent
means
,
and
adjusting
it
on
the
head
of
an
unknown
gentleman
,
of
dirty
exterior
,
however
ingenious
a
witticism
in
itself
,
is
unquestionably
one
of
those
which
come
under
the
denomination
of
practical
jokes
.
Viewing
the
matter
precisely
in
this
light
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
without
the
slightest
intimation
of
his
purpose
,
sprang
vigorously
out
of
bed
,
struck
the
Zephyr
so
smart
a
blow
in
the
chest
as
to
deprive
him
of
a
considerable
portion
of
the
commodity
which
sometimes
bears
his
name
,
and
then
,
recapturing
his
nightcap
,
boldly
placed
himself
in
an
attitude
of
defence
.
‘
Now
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
gasping
no
less
from
excitement
than
from
the
expenditure
of
so
much
energy
,
‘
come
on
—
both
of
you
—
both
of
you
!
’
With
this
liberal
invitation
the
worthy
gentleman
communicated
a
revolving
motion
to
his
clenched
fists
,
by
way
of
appalling
his
antagonists
with
a
display
of
science
.
It
might
have
been
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
very
unexpected
gallantry
,
or
it
might
have
been
the
complicated
manner
in
which
he
had
got
himself
out
of
bed
,
and
fallen
all
in
a
mass
upon
the
hornpipe
man
,
that
touched
his
adversaries
.
Touched
they
were
;
for
,
instead
of
then
and
there
making
an
attempt
to
commit
man
–
slaughter
,
as
Mr
.
Pickwick
implicitly
believed
they
would
have
done
,
they
paused
,
stared
at
each
other
a
short
time
,
and
finally
laughed
outright
.
‘
Well
,
you
’
re
a
trump
,
and
I
like
you
all
the
better
for
it
,
’
said
the
Zephyr
.
‘
Now
jump
into
bed
again
,
or
you
’
ll
catch
the
rheumatics
.
No
malice
,
I
hope
?
’
said
the
man
,
extending
a
hand
the
size
of
the
yellow
clump
of
fingers
which
sometimes
swings
over
a
glover
’
s
door
.
‘
Certainly
not
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
with
great
alacrity
;
for
,
now
that
the
excitement
was
over
,
he
began
to
feel
rather
cool
about
the
legs
.
‘
Allow
me
the
H
-
onour
,
’
said
the
gentleman
with
the
whiskers
,
presenting
his
dexter
hand
,
and
aspirating
the
h
.
