警官と賛美歌第２幕 | NHKラジオで学ぶ英会話 Get The Dream

さて本日のラジオ英会話は昨日の続きです。

オー・ヘンリーの警官と賛美歌　第２幕。

相変わらず難しいですが、なかなかこういうことでしか長文の英語を聞くという機会はありません。ですから頑張って Try してください。

なお、和訳は打つのが大変でやめました(^^;

英語全文をgoogle翻訳サイトでやってみましたが、全然意味が通じないのでやめました。
かといって、一文字一文字打ち込むのはしんどいから嫌です（爆笑）

The Cop and the Anthem　Act Two
Words & Expressions
1. 関連記事

The Cop and the Anthem　Act Two

　　Soapy had confidence in himself from the lowest button of his vest upward. He was shaven, and his coat was decent and his neat black, ready-tied four-in-hand had been presented to him by a lady missionary on Thanksgiving Day. If he could reach a table in the restaurant unsuspected success would be his. The portion of him that would show above the table would raise no doubt in the waiter’s mind. A roasted mallard duck, thought Soapy, would be about the thing―with a bottle of Chablis, and then Camembert, a demi-tasse and a cigar.

　　But as Soapy set foot inside the restaurant door the head waiter’s eye fell upon his frayed trousers and decadent shoes. Strong and ready hands turned him about and conveyed him in silence and haste to the sidewalk and averted the ignoble fate of the menaced mallard.

　　Soapy turned off Broadway. It seemed that his route to the coveted island was not to be an epicurean one. Some other way of entering limbo must be thought of.

　　At a corner of Sixth Avenue electric lights and cunningly displayed wares behind plate-glass made a shop window conspicuous. Soapy took a cobblestone and dashed it through the glass. People came running around the corner, a policeman in the lead. Soapy stood still, with his hands in his pockets, and smiled at the sight of brass buttons.

　　“Where’s the man that done that?” inquired the officer excitedly.

　　“Don’t you figure out that I might have had something to do with it?” said Soapy, not without sarcasm, but friendly, as one greets good fortune.

　　The policeman’s mind refused to accept Soapy even as a clue. Men who smash windows do not remain to parley with the law’s minions. They take to their heels. The policeman saw a man half way down the block running to catch a car. With drawn club he joined in the pursuit. Soapy, with disgust in his heart, loafed along, twice unsuccessful.

　　On the opposite side of the street was a restaurant of no great pretensions. It catered to large appetites and modest purses. Its crockery and atmosphere were thick; its soup and napery thin. Into this place Soapy took his accusive shoes and telltale trousers without challenge. At a table he sat and consumed beefsteak, flapjacks, doughnuts and pie. And then to the waiter he betrayed the fact that the minutest coin and himself were strangers.

　　“Now, get busy and call a cop,” said Soapy. “And don’t keep a gentleman waiting.”

　　“No cop for youse,” said the waiter, with a voice like butter cakes and an eye like the cherry in a Manhattan cocktail. “Hey, Con!”

　　Neatly upon his left ear on the callous pavement two waiters pitched Soapy. He arose, joint by joint, as a carpenter’s rule opens, and beat the dust from his clothes. Arrest seemed but a rosy dream. The Island seemed very far away. A policeman who stood before a drug store two doors away laughed and walked down the street.