Повесть о двух городах / A Tale of Two Cities

What the two drank together, between Hilary Term[65 - Hilary Term – зимняя судебная сессия; Hilary – сезон, начинающийся с Рождества.] and Michaelmas,[66 - Michaelmas – Михайлов день в честь Архангела Михаила (в западных христианских церквях приходится на 29 сентября).] might have floated a king’s ship. Stryver never had a case in hand, anywhere, but Carton was there, with his hands in his pockets, staring at the ceiling of the court; they went the same Circuit, and even there they prolonged their usual orgies late into the night, and Carton was rumoured to be seen at broad day, going home stealthily and unsteadily to his lodgings, like a dissipated cat.

At last, it began to get about, among such as were interested in the matter, that although Sydney Carton would never be a lion, he was an amazingly good jackal, and that he rendered suit and service to Stryver in that humble capacity.

�Ten o’clock, sir,’ said the man at the tavern, whom he had charged to wake him – �ten o’clock, sir.’

�What’s the matter?’

�Ten o’clock, sir.’

�What do you mean? Ten o’clock at night?’

�Yes, sir. Your honour told me to call you.’

�Oh! I remember. Very well, very well.’

After a few dull efforts to get to sleep again, which the man dexterously combated by stirring the fire continuously for five minutes, he got up, tossed his hat on, and walked out.

He turned into the Temple, and, having revived himself by twice pacing the pavements of King’s Bench-walk and Paper-buildings,[67 - paper-building – зд. архив.] turned into the Stryver chambers.

The Stryver clerk, who never assisted at these conferences, had gone home, and the Stryver principal opened the door. He had his slippers on, and a loose bed-gown, and his throat was bare for his greater ease. He had that rather wild, strained, seared marking about the eyes, which may be observed in all free livers of his class, from the portrait of Jeffries[68 - Jeffries – Джордж Джеффрис (1645–1689), верховный судья Англии, известный своими жестокими приговорами.

] downward, and which can be traced, under various disguises of Art, through the portraits of every Drinking Age.

�You are a little late, Memory,’ said Stryver.