"Лорд Дансени. The Glittering Gate (Блистающие врата) (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

Oh, *Jim!*
:
You see there is n't any hope here. And when there
isn't any hope there is n't any future. And when there
is n't any future there is n't any past. It's just the
present here. I tell you we're stuck. There are n't
no years here. Nor no nothing.
:
Cheer up, Jim. You're thinking of a quotation,
"Abandon hope, all ye that enter here." I used to
learn quotations; they are awfully genteel. A fellow
named Shakespeare used to make them. But there is n't
any sense in them. What's the use of saying "ye" when
you mean "you"? Don't be thinking of quotations, Jim.
:
I tell you there is no hope here.
:
Cheer up, Jim. There's plenty of hope there, is n't
there? {Points to the Gate of Heaven}
:
Yes, and that's why they keep it locked up so. They
won't let us have any. No. I begin to remember Earth
again now since you've been speaking. It was just the
same there. The more they'd got the more they wanted
to keep *you* from having a bit.
:
You'll cheer up a bit when I tell you what I've got. I
say, Jim, have you got some beer? Why, so you have.
Why, *you* ought to cheer up, Jim.
:
All the beer you're ever likely to see again. They're
empty.
: {half rising from the rock on which he has seated
himself, and pointing his finger at Jim as he rises;
very cheerfully} Why, you're the chap that said there
was no hope here, and you're hoping to find beer in
every bottle you open.
:
Yes; I *hope* to see a drop of beer in one some day,
but I *know* I won't. Their trick *might* not work
just once.
:
How many have you tried, Jim?
:
Oh, I don't know. I've always been at it, working as
fast as I can, ever since -- ever since -- {Feels his
neck meditatively and up toward his ear} Why, ever
since, Bill.
:
Why don't you stop it?