Reedle Откройте в мобильном приложении
Понятно
Понятно
Для того чтобы воспользоваться закладками, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Отмена
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Отмена
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Отмена
The
position
was
the
more
awkward
because
the
Emperor
,
meditating
upon
his
magnanimous
plans
,
was
pacing
patiently
up
and
down
before
the
outspread
map
,
occasionally
glancing
along
the
road
to
Moscow
from
under
his
lifted
hand
with
a
bright
and
proud
smile
.
"
But
it
's
impossible
...
"
declared
the
gentlemen
of
the
suite
,
shrugging
their
shoulders
but
not
venturing
to
utter
the
implied
word
--
le
ridicule
...
At
last
the
Emperor
,
tired
of
futile
expectation
,
his
actor
's
instinct
suggesting
to
him
that
the
sublime
moment
having
been
too
long
drawn
out
was
beginning
to
lose
its
sublimity
,
gave
a
sign
with
his
hand
Отключить рекламу
A
single
report
of
a
signaling
gun
followed
,
and
the
troops
,
who
were
already
spread
out
on
different
sides
of
Moscow
,
moved
into
the
city
through
the
Tver
,
Kalúga
,
and
Dorogomílov
gates
.
Faster
and
faster
,
vying
with
one
another
,
they
moved
at
the
double
or
at
a
trot
,
vanishing
amid
the
clouds
of
dust
they
raised
and
making
the
air
ring
with
a
deafening
roar
of
mingling
shouts
.
Drawn
on
by
the
movement
of
his
troops
Napoleon
rode
with
them
as
far
as
the
Dorogomílov
gate
,
but
there
again
stopped
and
,
dismounting
from
his
horse
,
paced
for
a
long
time
by
the
Kámmer-Kollézski
rampart
,
awaiting
the
deputation
.
Meanwhile
Moscow
was
empty
.
There
were
still
people
in
it
,
perhaps
a
fiftieth
part
of
its
former
inhabitants
had
remained
,
but
it
was
empty
.
It
was
empty
in
the
sense
that
a
dying
queenless
hive
is
empty
.
In
a
queenless
hive
no
life
is
left
though
to
a
superficial
glance
it
seems
as
much
alive
as
other
hives
.
Отключить рекламу
The
bees
circle
round
a
queenless
hive
in
the
hot
beams
of
the
midday
sun
as
gaily
as
around
the
living
hives
;
from
a
distance
it
smells
of
honey
like
the
others
,
and
bees
fly
in
and
out
in
the
same
way
.
But
one
has
only
to
observe
that
hive
to
realize
that
there
is
no
longer
any
life
in
it
.
The
bees
do
not
fly
in
the
same
way
,
the
smell
and
the
sound
that
meet
the
beekeeper
are
not
the
same
.
To
the
beekeeper
's
tap
on
the
wall
of
the
sick
hive
,
instead
of
the
former
instant
unanimous
humming
of
tens
of
thousands
of
bees
with
their
abdomens
threateningly
compressed
,
and
producing
by
the
rapid
vibration
of
their
wings
an
aerial
living
sound
,
the
only
reply
is
a
disconnected
buzzing
from
different
parts
of
the
deserted
hive
.
From
the
alighting
board
,
instead
of
the
former
spirituous
fragrant
smell
of
honey
and
venom
,
and
the
warm
whiffs
of
crowded
life
,
comes
an
odor
of
emptiness
and
decay
mingling
with
the
smell
of
honey
.
There
are
no
longer
sentinels
sounding
the
alarm
with
their
abdomens
raised
,
and
ready
to
die
in
defense
of
the
hive
.
There
is
no
longer
the
measured
quiet
sound
of
throbbing
activity
,
like
the
sound
of
boiling
water
,
but
diverse
discordant
sounds
of
disorder
.
In
and
out
of
the
hive
long
black
robber
bees
smeared
with
honey
fly
timidly
and
shiftily
.
They
do
not
sting
,
but
crawl
away
from
danger
.
Formerly
only
bees
laden
with
honey
flew
into
the
hive
,
and
they
flew
out
empty
;
now
they
fly
out
laden
.
The
beekeeper
opens
the
lower
part
of
the
hive
and
peers
in
.
Instead
of
black
,
glossy
bees
--
tamed
by
toil
,
clinging
to
one
another
's
legs
and
drawing
out
the
wax
,
with
a
ceaseless
hum
of
labor
--
that
used
to
hang
in
long
clusters
down
to
the
floor
of
the
hive
,
drowsy
shriveled
bees
crawl
about
separately
in
various
directions
on
the
floor
and
walls
of
the
hive
.
Instead
of
a
neatly
glued
floor
,
swept
by
the
bees
with
the
fanning
of
their
wings
,
there
is
a
floor
littered
with
bits
of
wax
,
excrement
,
dying
bees
scarcely
moving
their
legs
,
and
dead
ones
that
have
not
been
cleared
away
.
The
beekeeper
opens
the
upper
part
of
the
hive
and
examines
the
super
.
Instead
of
serried
rows
of
bees
sealing
up
every
gap
in
the
combs
and
keeping
the
brood
warm
,
he
sees
the
skillful
complex
structures
of
the
combs
,
but
no
longer
in
their
former
state
of
purity
.
All
is
neglected
and
foul
.
Black
robber
bees
are
swiftly
and
stealthily
prowling
about
the
combs
,
and
the
short
home
bees
,
shriveled
and
listless
as
if
they
were
old
,
creep
slowly
about
without
trying
to
hinder
the
robbers
,
having
lost
all
motive
and
all
sense
of
life
.
Drones
,
bumblebees
,
wasps
,
and
butterflies
knock
awkwardly
against
the
walls
of
the
hive
in
their
flight
.
Here
and
there
among
the
cells
containing
dead
brood
and
honey
an
angry
buzzing
can
sometimes
be
heard
.
Here
and
there
a
couple
of
bees
,
by
force
of
habit
and
custom
cleaning
out
the
brood
cells
,
with
efforts
beyond
their
strength
laboriously
drag
away
a
dead
bee
or
bumblebee
without
knowing
why
they
do
it
.