World literature. Comprehensive preparation for VNO. Pavich milorad Damaskin Damaskin duzhe stislo

“Damaskin” by M. Pavich short read you can for 5 khvilin.

“Damaskin” M. Pavich short zmist

800 everyday people come to the Serbian Osten, and all on the name of Jovan. The stench is visible maistri, as if there will be temples in the ancient Greek style.

The daughter of Pan Nikolic von Rudka, the trustee of the Serbian schools and courts, Atiliya zabazhala, so that until the її veіlla they would build a palace, de life, that church, de vіchatimetsya. They called the best everyday people - Jovan Lestvichnik and Jovan Damaskin.

Atilia told Damascus about her dreams. A child was born in her, and she won't love to grow up. And in that son - a special mark: a scar near a flattened eye. Damascene has such a scar.

Readers spend on the first “crossing” and read either about the palace, or about the third temple, they will be at once. Jovan, everyday church, showing the armchairs of three churches - green (the plantings of boxwood grow at once from the temple and we look at it the same way), zhovto (with stone) and buzkovo (the temple in heaven, the temple of the soul).

As if the gentlemen were reminded that the church was no longer being built, for the boxwood had ceased to grow. If Nikolic asked why the boxwood was not tall, they answered him: “You have sinned here, Pane Nikolic. You yelled at us, and torn a piece of bread from one company. If you repent and hesitate, you will turn the Borg back.” And sir, rightly, yelling at the alarm clocks.

The palace is also worth the trouble. Having attacked and wounded Damascus, he was guilty of it. Atilia, if you want to rozshukati, go to the palace.

The reader is again opining on the "crossroads" and can read either about the distant, or about the resting place.

Atiliya razumіє, that Damascus enciphered the message in the names of the furniture, in the little ones on the stele. She begins to guess, cory with a compass and a compass, guess, at the same place she calls, and somewhere there. All points to one monastery. Atilia with the post is welcome there. Daughter write to the father's sheet of letters about the trip, the city, the hospitality of the chents. On the way to the maiden, a young man, similar to his betrothed Alexander, gets into the carriage, and gives a book, which is described in exactly the same words, as she wrote, go up to the monastery. And the book is called "The Life of Major General and Cavalier Simeon, son of Stefan Pishchevich in Rocks 1744-1784". Atilia wonders. Between her, that young man, there is a love scene. Atilii, it’s like Alexander, she doesn’t mark the cut finger of the young man (and Damaskinus himself was wounded).

"Damaskin" M. Pavich summary

800 builders come to the Serbian Osten, and all in the name of Jovan. They are outstanding craftsmen who build temples in the ancient Greek style.

The daughter of Mr. Nikolic von Rudka, a trustee of Serbian schools and a judge, Atilia wished that a palace would be built for her wedding, where she would live, and a church where she would get married. They called the best builders - Jovan Lestvichnik and Jovan Damaskin.

Atilia told Damascene about her dream dreams. As if she had a child, and she loves and raises. And the son has a special sign: a scar on his closed eye. Damascus had the same scar.

Readers get to the first "crossroads" and read about either the palace or the third temple, which are being built at the same time. Jovan, the builder of the church, shows drawings of three churches - green (this boxwood planted by him will grow with the temple and acquire the same appearance with it), yellow (made of stone) and lilac (this is a temple in heaven, a temple of the soul).

Then the master was informed that the church had stopped being built, because the box tree had stopped growing. When Nikolic asked why the boxwood does not grow, he was answered: “Where did you sin, Mr. Nikolic. That you owe, to whom a piece of bread was torn from his mouth. When you repent and atone, you will repay the debt.” And the master really owed the builders.

The palace is also unfinished. Someone attacked and wounded Damascene, so he disappeared. Atilius wants to find him, goes to the palace.

The reader again finds himself at the "crossroads" and can read either about the dining room or about the bedroom.

Atilia understands that Damaskinos encoded a message for her in the names of the furniture, in the drawings on the ceiling. She begins to guess, using a compass and compass, guesses where her name is, and goes there. Everything points to one monastery. Atilia and her retinue are well received there. The daughter writes a letter to her father with her impressions about the trip, the area, the hospitality of the monks. On the way back to the girl, a young man, who looks like her fiancé Alexander, gets into the carriage and gives a book in which the trip to the monastery is described in exactly the same words as she wrote. But the book is called "Biography of Major General and Cavalier Simeon, son of Stefan Pishchevich in the years 1744-1784." Atilia is surprised. Between her and the young there is a love scene. It seems to Atilia that this is Alexander, she does not notice the severed index finger of the young man (namely, Damaskin received such a wound).

Returning home, Atilia pays off her father's debts and apologizes to the builders; by the signs in the bedroom she again guesses that Damaskinus is calling her. Calculates the route and goes. The final destination is a monastery, which, it turns out, belongs to her. As a gift, she receives two more wedding rings and ... a finger is knocked out in a box.

Budіvnichi

Knotgogo Roku Nakrikinzi XVIII Toteli Yakhayi Turkish Ponnik on Drinі, Sama Variv at Konyachi Sechi Kuryachi eggs, Schob Dovzhe Zabergali, with his arrivals, he was giving up his own Vlad, 800 Serbian Kasenyv 800 Name Jovan. Then the stench in my everyday shawl was gunned, first of all, on the battlefield, de tіlki-but vydgrimіla the war between Austria and Turechchina. They were angry with them in the Dunavian River, before the great people, as well as the mulars from Karlovtsiv, Zemun, Sremska Mitrovitsa, Novi Sad, Osien, Tanchev, Rumi, from the white world and from the Black Rivnina. Qi “indzhiniri”, “dungeri”, “baukunstleri”, “baugauptmani”, “budivnichi and carpenters”, “maormaistri”, “marmourers” bathed horses every day, respectfully admiring that you are good to graze and drink, to serve all yama organs are sensitive, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to do anything, but at night they were dreaming, it’s impossible to stand on the birch of the drooping sea, but in their dreams and far away that cauldron of the black rill of black bells on the day of Panonia, vdaryayuchis mountains.

In the shortest possible hour, the stench rang out from the unfortunate servants, they refurbished the Mesić monastery, the cells of the Vrdnik monastery, erected new churches in Krneševci, near Stari Pazovі, near Chortanovtsy on Fruška Gori, near Bukovtsi, built up the Karlovac Cathedral, the church in Bešcik , Mykolaiv Church in Iriga. Numbers of Serbs from Rivnini and from Bosnia, and together with them, numerically Czechs, Germans and Tsintsars, left to the right, began to lay down with unfavorable signatures with a cross, Cyrillic or Latin. Cі 800 Iovaniv

because of Drini, ots Stanarevichi, Laushevichi, Vlashichi, Aksentiievichi, Dmitrievichi, Lanerichi, Georgievichi, Vagneri, Maisingeri, Gangsteri, Gintenmaєri, Bauery, Ebeni, Gaski, Kindli, Blombergeri and Gakeri, they were transported with chins and hackers, wood pisok and vapno, and in dreams they fought their distant squads such as you could not be at home. And they suffered, because they did not let you cry in your dreams. To landowners from equal and merchants from Serbia, who trimmed the caravan path between Skhod and Zakhod, the alarmists proclaimed their mastership, writing with their titles and recommendations. Carrying a wus on the Istanbul, Vidensky chi Pesht kshtalt, stench in two kingdoms, in Austria and Turkey, took up the names of everyday life thoughts, distancing for their practice, cisar ducati from the images of Josip Another and yoga mothers, old women and embroidered perperi, prote took and Egyptian dinars, uncut and trimmed aspri, and inkoli and ancient Kotor folyars. They lowered their wine at the muscat, so that they could talk again, what stench is right, they murruli. They murmured helplessly. Vіd revtomi, they hardly forgot everything about themselves, from their life they smelled more than smells ...

Bachachi take off five movs and christen in two frets, the stench of new Orthodox churches in Bachevtsy, Kupinovy, Mirkovtsy, Yakovy, Mikhalevtsy, Bezhanії near Zemun, near Dobryntsy. The stench of miles of beards in the Kinsk shanks and most of all went to the pivnіch in the "salt line", which stretched through the Belgrade mountains, vddіlyayuchi pіvnіchnі solonchaks, wherever the Panonian sea swayed, in the form of pivdenny black soil, there was no sea and salt. On the saline lands, the stinks built Orthodox churches in the Danube and Posavina, and if they drank, they kept their eyes on, so that the muri stood, there were new branches and they inspired the churches in Shida, in the monasteries of Yaska and Kuvezhdina.

And because of the fact that they were hired by the Metropolitan of Karlovac, the stench passed on to the black lands, on the day of the Savi and the Danube, on the day of the solonchaks, finishing the Serbian, Greek and Lutheran post, until they inspired Roman or they brought from the ruins of the Holy Monastery, Ryan , Pambukovica, Rajnovats ta Chelіє. Poleskayu their horses on the groats, like swearing women, passed the stink of the sword and trowel krіz Serbian revolution of 1804, hauled the merchants of pigs, outside, zbіzhzhyam and wax, like they financed the revolution, gave pennies to the vіdbudova monastir, Bogmarіvdzha on Drina, Volyavcha, Klisura on Moravitsi and Moravtsi near Rudnik. The gods of the horses were inspired by the architects and churches of the old monasteries, who recognized the ear of the Turkish pile - Manasiya, Ravanitsa, Transfiguration and Nicholas, then hired to build palaces for the written nobility.

І все це нове будівництво несло ознаки давньої грецької архітектури з колонами, тимпанами та вирішеними в стилі ампір палацами Сервійських у Турецькій Канижі, Чарноєвичів у Оросині, Текеліїв у Араді, Стратимировичів у Кулпині, Одескалкієвих в Ілоці, Єлцових у Вуковарі, Хадиків у Футогу, Ґражальковичів near Sombori, Marzibanny near Kamenitsa. At one time, this very thing looked like the viisky budіvli in the months of the rebuking of the Austrian cordon parts near Petrovaradin, Titeli, Zemun, Panchevi and Vrshtsi. The new mulars carried compasses on their guild banners, polished picnic tabernacles, puffed cartouches, bulky cornices of their fronts... Karlovtsy, Temishvari, Kikindi, right up to the empire-style facade of the Kursaal in Melentsy and the municipality in Bashaidi.

But not all stinks, however, became famous. On the night of the new 19th century in the middle of the middle centers of everyday life the glory of the village of Margantsi zavdyaki architects came up, which resembled the motherland, which from generation to generation gave the first-class budivniki-livakiv. That buv master Dimitri Shuvakovich. After 1808, the fate of the wines with their marmurovels was a mustache, for which merchants and rich craftsmen paid in Banovtsy, Klenka, Adashivtsi, Beshenovі, Dyvoshі, Vizichi, Grgurevtsy, Ledintsy, Neshtynі and Yamini. Yogo motto was lost:

“If you want to live long and happily on earth, do not spare yourself any in what.”

One of the same people who were named after the deputy, Mr. Servoye, Schuvakovich, by breaking the prisoner in the swing of the Pecher with Kam’yanoy, the Greetsky God is unfortunate, and the nobility, the gentry Mr. Nicholich Zholichi in the new Styl Maudni Parkovsi

- Why stink? - after sleeping Shuvakovich's deputy.

- Schob pick up tears for them.

— Slozie? - Nikolic became furious and drove Shuvakovich away.

Obid

Pan Nikolic von Rudna was a lyricist of the Golden Fleece, a trustee of Serbian schools in Osijek and judge in Toronto and Sremsk zhupanіyah. Under the hour of the war with the French and the Turks, squeezing the Austrian empire without a hundredth position and buying the Rudna wilderness for the sum of 52.028 forints. In a private life, Pan Nikolic was an arrogant person - p’yaniv, only touching a glass, smoothing, only bachiv more than two straws on the table. Vіn not mav naschadkіv cholіchoї stats, mav only one daughter in the name of Atiliy, as if he had been given at the head of the school, the beginning of the son. And at the same time, the grandfather of Atiliy by the mother of knowledge, the teacher Marievskiy, the school reformer in Austria and Russia.

A young lady from the family of Nikolichiv vanished in her fifteenth fate on the most impressive swede of Orfelin's "Evening Calendar" under the scent of the smell of what it is time to stand on the spot. Vaughn loved to posterize, like a flying bird, a whirlwind of a bird, a small last, not like a snake of eggs, eyes of her breast, and yet she took a moment to put her fingers on her left hand, not serving as her right. Vaughn wore cloth behind a venetian cut - high under the hood and the most embroidered pawouts, like a Persian, apparently to a panuycho relish, mali buti under a transparent veil, so you could pick it up, de її zhіkinochі yagi.

“Two right two bad hens, make him need, so that he would wake them up like a pivnik,” she said, peering at them from her bosom, mutely swaying forward. Then I turned my eyes mercilessly to the father. - Don't worry, you won Shuvakovich. Ale scho from which vekna? Lis, huh? And what did I say, so that it was visible! Palace, where I live, if I go abroad. And what are you doing in the other side? Well, tell me, what are you doing?

At the top of the Atilian veil on the Persians, two haptovans panicles were trembled. Between them, hanging on the golden lance, the father’s gift is a Geneva year, decorations for cat stones, from the compass on the back of the barrel.

“You don’t cook anything,” Atilia didn’t think about cooking, “and who did I tell you what I can see behind this window?” Church, in which I will marry. I de now Shuvakovich, what kind of vignav? Do your work, I'll finish the mushu myself. Go and send me Yagoda.

So the viznik Yagoda, having looked at the young lady Atilia, was entrusted to know the architect, who is even better for Shuvakovich.

“Find me the best Jovan among these Jovans,” she called out to you, and Yagoda, like a wind, listening to the words.

If Yagoda began to serve in Nikolic, he was taught to move forward. We have reached the point that in the prodovzh of the whole season Yagoda musiv trimat one day the top mouth of the water, the next day - the top mouth of the raki.

- In a different way, wash with a rakia at the mouth and with water in the mouth, - respecting Pan Nikolic.

According to the state, he made one of the 800 mulars and teslars that came from Osat. Just a little Yagoda grafted yoga, pannochka Nikolic pootskavilas, who is the most important everyday life of Jovaniv.

- Why not the one who worked at the Stratimirovichi?

“Hi,” the lunatic of the witness said, “two of them are the best. One distav im'ya for Jovan Damascene, who was the temple in the hearts of people. This is called Yogo Damascus. And another after the church father Jovan Lestvichnik, who robbed the dragons to the sky. The Damascus mind built the largest houses, and the other - the management of the church building.

- Bring me both, - having punished Pan Nikolic, - one will make me a palace for the donka, and the other - the church, in which the donka will be married.

In the midst of the coming Berry grafted both Jovaniv on obid. they were seated at the dining room of the room and brought to them “nothingless paprikash” and prunes, which were kept by the tyutyun for a cradle. Vіn mav accepting aroma of tyutyun. And before the table, a dance of monastic vermouth from Fenech was corked. For resentment, they came home, so that in a month they would show Panov Nikolich the little ones: Jovan the Elder to the temple, and Jovan the Younger, of the ranks of Damascus, to the palace.

- I pay for the skin river in advance, but everything can be ready at once, - far away Nikolic, - a temple without a palace is nothing, that palace is nothing without a church. Offended by musyat buti completed in the lines. And in the line є vinchannya ... Atiliya already maє betrothed. Tse lieutenant Aleksandar, a prominent panich from a good homeland, father yoga was a general in the Russian service, but the stink of our family. At once Aleksandar to serve as a prelate in Upper Austria.

One of the everyday letters is an old, swaying little man, short-armed and such a soft-spoken man, that, if Yogo was forced to speak, Yogo's mouth was caressed, instead of rib'yachy pukhir. Sensing that the church was about to be resurrected for the wedding of the young pannochka Nikolic, you were turbulent in your sleep, and your fate was high.

“Then she’s playing with other children,” Lord Nikolic reassured him, “she died at the age of fifteen.

The old master frowned and began to shake the olive on the valley. Another, younger, speaking less. If only Pan Nikolic had guessed that the church and the palace of the bazhano would have been here, order, Damaskinus would turn his pointing finger to the right.

Damascus buv garni, ale leva, from small casts and a wiry black beard with a gold pinch. Those wrists in the new boule were tied with white khasts, as if to rob the patterns. If the stench attacks, the horns grow up and spantelize the opponent - she does not know for sure from which side the next strike will follow. Ale young Damascus without wearing any pattern, any knife. Maizhe hung around all the time, wanting to stomp with his hands without a hitch. After a meal of wine from the bread and sticks for stuffing the cradle, having built a boat and presented it to the young gentleman, she went to the stone.

At the Batkovo, the sign of that zbentezhennya of the guests Atilia painted her eyes on her breasts. The stench marveled at the veil at the guests' skin with their beak, trochs zizooky, scarlet charming, with gleaming green eyes. In the wild ruination of Damascus, he called out stubbornly, prolonging Atili's boat:

- Tse for you, garna pannochko.

What did she say:

- For the nobility, chi garna as a woman, check, while you play її, if it’s later, if you laugh, or if you speak. And it’s necessary, if it’s better with you. I don’t like that, if they marvel at me, if they do. That one not to love and my hort ...

Therefore, she took the boat, walked up to the cradle with cradles, chose one, with a long crib, already stuffed, and put on Damascus.

- Tyutyun, having lain down by the prunes and having removed one troch of the smell, - Movil won.

Damaskinus, grabbing onto the cradle, that Atilia would not let her in. Vona turned around properly and sipped her yogo on a long cibukhov to the music room.

The stench leaned against the spacious room with different windows. Only a little, they entered, a hefty chort jumped on Damascus, fortunately, tying to a shkiryan armchair, kindly still grimy. Atilia, as she was already at the piano, picked up a chord. On the spot, the dog began to squawk, and she calmed down, fluttering in her armchair. The piano standing in the middle of the room, the mute majestic carriage with two lighters. In the new boulevard, the little ones and the great black keys were dirty. Small and white shone like an elephant brush. Atilia Grala. In the midst of the rain, everything in the room shed, rose up, inadvertently boiled in the unblighted heights, and then broke through and fell to the ground with a grumbling. Damaskin splashed, the dog began to sing again, Atilia unstoppably snatched the grue.

- You guess, I'm playing? she chuckled as far as Damascus. With these sounds, I water the flowers in the garden under the windows. So the stench will grow faster ... O psnі, yakі kvіti to love. Like a song, like we love. That іsnuyet аnd іnshі, vinyatkovі аnd expensive songs, yаkі vmіyut to love us. We don’t smell any of these songs, and we don’t feel it, because there are more rich songs in the world that can love us, and it’s quiet, like we love. Tse itself worthy of a book, paintings or Budinkiv. Really, what can you say about the houses? It's just that some of them may love us, but some don't. Budinki are, in fact, without interruption, listing between the alarm clock and those who linger in them. Human dwellings - the price of Nem's great beautiful and boring leaves. Meshkannya in them can be similar to business listing, to listing between two fierce enemies, to listing between a ruler and a mercenary, and a prisoner, but it can also be lovingly listing ... . Some are female, and others are human. That's right. I want you to put up a booth that looks like a love leaf. I know, it’s not the skin to calm down to set fire to the fire. Decomu n_yak does not give a damn. Hello, you can. I know what you can.

- How do you know, shanovna pannochko? - having drunk Damascus and having planted a ring of dima with the aroma of prunes on the face of the Hortov, snorting some kind of that.

- How do I know? Well, listen, my panic! If I passed my somiy, they made me think more strongly. So strong help, why not. Zavdovka to Thessaloniki, but they’ll jump like that, if not, I’ll be slapped on both sides to the head. And over them there is such a strong dream that it seems so. And it was so rich that I tried to forget things. Today I forgot not in pounds of chi kilograms, but in tons. Todi thought that I could have children. I immediately began to do the trick. That same day, one Thursday after the obid, I gave birth to thoughts and, without thinking, three little chicks, and began to see and love. Lyubov is worth what you learn and what you train with. Until then, love is the only thing that needs to be stolen. If you don’t steal a day’s worth of skin and an hour for love, then you won’t lose anything in it. From me, I yearned for my breast in a dream and remembered that on the front of my chest there was a scar in front of a flattened eye. I’m waving my hair with wine, I’m kissing yoga at my ear, I’m caressing it already, I’m playing with it “at the letter”, I’ll show you how to marvel at my bead, we’ll be at once back here for clean water, or I’ll be on Tisі hut from a dog ... I grow taller, lower I, and in my eyes become older for me. I send my thoughts to the beginning, back to Karlovtsiv at the Serbian-Latin school, and then - until Sunday at the military engineering school, so that I become everyday and build the most beautiful palaces ... I didn’t practice yoga, but I loved yoga even more. I clearly declare, what kind of wine is there at the world, and I will pragmatically. To your child ...

- Why is the history of history, pannochko Atiliya, but what is the answer to my question, where is your booth and where am I? Chi, maybe, your imminent lad will give you a palace?

- Come on, - said Atilia, getting up from the piano. She rolled up the sleeve of her damask shirt with a quick flutter, and on the front of her shirt one could see a scar near what looked like a flattened eye.

P e r s h e r e c h r i s t i

The reader can turn it himself, in what order to read the next two divided: the “Third Temple” on the back, and if you read from the computer, then press the “bear” on the whole word; or else he split the “Palace” on the back, and then it’s like a high click on the other word. Without a doubt, the reader may not call on my respect and read the explanation, as if it were otherwise.

Third temple

Akurat on St. Andrew the First-Called, the architect Jovan, nicknamed the Ladder, gave Mr. Nikolich from Rudny the chair of the new temple of the Entry, which could be placed in the maєtka of Tisi and wear the pannochki Atiliy, vlasnitsі. The maister himself took the mist, but here, as if explaining the wind, there is only one wind. If in the distance Nikolich, having lit up their armchairs, the stench occupied the whole style. Temple Musiv mother sim vikon, bіla vіvtary gave a seat for Nikolichi, with their coat of arms over the back.

Pan Nikolic sighed at the armchair, mumbling in rapid succession:

- But right there, Jovane, three churches are painted, before that, exactly the same, and I only paid for one!

- So, chairs for three churches, prote vy, pane Nikolic, pay only for one. Otsya the first church, as if you are drenched in a painted green color, you will be in your garden in front of your eyes and will not be seen, but grow up on your own.

- That year already, Jovane, weave nіsenіtnitsі! How can the church grow on its own?

“Maybe, and you’ll bang yourselves, if you can, Pane Nikolic.” Tomorrow I will send three gardeners, and stink just for this little one to plant boxwood in your garden. Boxwood is about stout with tієyu and shvidkіst, z for which I am there, on the designated place of your maetka bіla Tisi, muruvatim friend of the church with stone, like here, on my little one, I am marked with a yellow bar. My gardeners will cut the boxwood, and you can watch all the time out of the window, on the slopes there over the Tisza, I and my mulari and marmurovals have poked their way out. You all sing out of the sky - if there is a crypt, if there is a vіvtar, if the temple is built with a bathhouse. God bless us, start everything, as if required, finish it right away ...

- Miraculous and garno. But tell me, Jovana, why is the third church painted with buzkovy ink?

- Ege, tse taєmnitsa, as it seems to be less than a hint. For there is no distant life without mystery, but a right temple without a diva.

So, having put Jovan over Tisza, the Church of the Entry of the Mother of God, and Pan Nikolich, showing Atiliy at the window, like a boxwood tree in his garden, stretching at the looking church, until you could see it, mute at the garden alley, wide doors. Atilia strolled by that natural temple, stood in the church in front of the growing day, would have been married, and one Monday evening after the first wedding anniversary of the new church, she celebrated the evening star. Temple made of boxwood ris corner.

Obviously, Atilia and her father came an hour before the hour to the Tisza, and then the stench stung, like the temple of the Entry rises and grows at the stone and marmur. With such a zatsіkavlenіstyu they bypassed the next day, the palace of Atilii, which called Damascus. Prote himself the architect seldom stumbled on weekdays, mute for once hovavsya.

And here it was a mess.

One wound Yagoda dopovіv panovі Nikolich:

- Boxwood stopped growing!

- And my yake matter! — vіdrubav buv pan. — I’ve made a temple out of boxwood any, having paid any.

But all the same, I once again succumbed to everything, reconsidered myself and, having leaned to Tisi, to reach, if it is possible to accept the completion of the temple, then sanctify yoga. Prote in the temple, having shaken less windows and doors, lower early. І zhodnogo mulyar i marmuruvalnik.

- This scroll really began to spread out, - Pan Nikolic thought and put it in after his old and twisted zvichka. Vіn did not call out the elder master of the church, Ivan of the Ladder, to get to the new head of the speeches, but after punishing the Yagod, if necessary, from the ground of the land, distributing the yoma of the Lestvichnikov supernik - Damascus. Pan and reveal yourselves not in a moment two masters-foremen, yaki would not be sworn enemies. Damaskin appeared the next day with a bandaged head. Yogo was hurt. The wound under the bandage of the troch crooked.

— What happened to the church? - pan Nikolic nervously asleep.

- You yourself bachite: її already stopped muruvati.

- How did you stop? Why?

— Schos zavazha Yovanovі finish the church — moving Damaskin — boxwood ceased to grow.

- Mustaches about boxwood and about boxwood! Yake me had a lot of boxwood before that! - pan Nikolic wiggling. - I paid Jovanov, so that I muraved the stone, and wrought the muruvati from the stone. Hiba can't get what you've lost?

- Sir, Jovan can easily continue the muruvati from the stone, that if the boxwood is not tall, it means: not the growth of that, the third temple, which you bachili painted with a buzkovy farboi. And this whole stone temple is less likely to be mourned on the stiles of the pyads, on the stilts of the pyads the life on the third temple is poked...

— What now?

- Here you have sinned, Pane Nikolic. You yelled at us, and torn a piece of bread from one company. If you guess, de offended and whom they skrivdili, repent and spokutuєt sin, borg turn, then you Jovan finish the temple.

“Lord, Damascene, will that Jovan be that third temple?”

— In the sky. The third temple of Jovan will forever be in heaven.

(Even if you read the “Palace” section, go to the other crossing. If not, go to the other section.)

Palace

It was like a home to St. Andrew the First-Called by the obid Nikolich of Rudny, the architect Jovan, nicknamed Damascene, having given the little ones to the palace, what kind of wine could be called into the maetka bіla Tisi, on the vіdpovіdny mіsci, de wind zavzhd dme in one bek. In the distance, Atilius scoffed at the papers, Pan Nikolic and Damaskin with his white husts, and left the pattern of that lower wine at the front. Behind the little ones, the bula of the mother chotiri of the colony from the chola is to blame, like trimming the tympanum, then the great chandelier with a comin, especially the garni boules of the two chandeliers - the expanse of the rectilinear distance and the bedchamber.

“Having thought of the good things, my child,” Atilia Damaskinov’s motto straightened up to the room with a piano and chorta. At the door, she turned around and added:

— Let's do it, you're right about my inspiration. And you, my son, you know what kind of inspiration it is. Last time I said to you: dim, like a kohanna leaf.

Todіvona showed the palm of her left hand with two rings, the stones of which were turned to the press, and she blunted them at the new one, mov two black eyes. Chakluvala chi scho ... Later, schosuboti Atiliya ordered Yagodi to harness horses and rode with the father herself to Tis. There shvidko rostav palats. Prote

Damascus and far away may not have been on weekdays. It was already a year before the bed was within reach by hand, that Atiliy was only once more than once that two girls were able to exchange words with words from the architects. Unique її? Ale once went navpaki. Damaskin having hooted Pan Nikolic to come to Tisi. Riyuchi rіv for pіdmurkіv, Damaskin made a Marmur sculpture for a woman. His hair and eyes were green, and his body was a storm, may be black. With a bent pointing finger, the girl beckoned someone to her. Damaskine urged to put її in the light.

- Otaku indulge? - Zdivuvavsya Nikolic, ice throwing an eye.

Todі Damaskin took the hammer and broke the sculpture's hand. Like a red motherland, the mute rusty water has chirped. And in the middle of the marmur seemed to live, m'yazi and brushes, like a living person, wanting everything to be crushed from natural stone ...

If Atilia did, then she wanted to beat the father in, she was late, Damaskin had already seen the figure from the mother. Tsya pod_ya nibi called out bad luck. Already, Atiliy did not have the luck to shoot “his child”, Damascus, on the birch. Nezabarom, Yagoda brought faint sounds. Vіznik speaking like establishments:

- Everything is clear now. It is not surprising that Damaskin always carried a chabla with him. Walk a little, but mav come in handy with the girls and women, and now these people are named to take revenge on you and try to kill your head. And vtіm, do not need to take a sin on your soul, Damascus for days has already put up a dіm pіd dakh, put up furniture, but the first night, if you want to spend the night in a new one, they attacked the new one. Nevidomy ґvaltіvnik indistinctly crept up to the bed of Damascus and knocked him in, if it weren’t for the pardon, you can call it that. Before the attack, it was not necessary to dine, as if the fighters were shy in front of the hertz. Otzh itself in the new cover growled in the stomach. It woke up Damaskin and vryatuvalo Yoma life. Vіn vyvihnuvsya z-pіd shablі, vyhopiv knife, zreshtoy still wounded in the head, but the attackers broke the index finger. That duck, and Damaskin knew the crooked one on the lie...

At the first call, Atilius and father immediately hurried to Tis, but the architect was no longer there. The untinted palace stood by the majestic park, and the mulari were in order.

— De Damascene? Atilia scoffed.

— De Damascene? - Pan Nikolic angrily slept.

- The boys came. Yogo is hurt. And ask us to win you, abi vie paid us. For the rіk we were beaten to the trinity work, and in advance we were paid less for the rіk.

In the words of the Lord Nikolic Rozshaliv.

“Listen to me respectfully, and spit in your eyes, I’ll be lying!” You won’t win any shelyaga until life ends!

I leaned home.

In such moods, Pan Nikolich never spoke with people who were like discontent. Vіn without becoming a shukati of his wounded everyday Damaskin, after calling to himself yoga supernik Jovan Lestvichnik, the head master of the temple, explain in detail the report, who is vin, this Damaskin.

- Like the holy father Damascene, yogo theologian, your master Jovan, serve as heavenly mathematics, and out as earthly mathematics. Well, butt the floors, Origen's holy tongues of linguistics differ from grammar on this earth ...

— Can you hear a little more about Damascus? - Pan Nikolic, having interrupted the chief master of the chief master.

- You can. Damascene knows one great trick. You know how to sleep. Get up to the sweatshirt, fit your horses, bypass everyday life and change yourself. Let's sweat, leaning on dim, what will be, healthy standing sprats of quills. Suddenly, after resentment, in your dreams to offend your soul, sitting on your back in the cold under the wall. Meet, after evening, fall asleep and sleep through your part of the night ...

And, don’t forget, - having finished the master of his promo, - Damaskinus conveying that I will no longer be with you, and sending you an otsyu casket.

If Pan Nikolic from Rudny opened a box, in it lay a curled index finger.

(If you haven’t read the “Third Temple” section, move on to the next section. If you have read it, read further and go to the other crossing.)

Other

The reader can turn it himself, in what order to read the next two divided, - he divided the “Bedroom” on the back, or the “far” on the back. Vіd tsogo choice to lie down, which z dvoh rasdіlіv chitach obere for the end of the warning.

far

“The skin of a new key is another bug,” Atilia reassured herself, marveling at the incompleteness of the stone of her palace above Tisza. Vaughn scoffed at Damascus for no reason, not to finish the work, but to bring to herself that the "child" was building a good house. The protémeister knew. Navit Yagoda couldn't figure it out anywhere. At the same time, Atilia loved to wander at home, dreaming and being beautiful, recognized for her by Damascus, speeches, as if lying everywhere in desolation. If it appeared, nibi Damascus depriving her of a messenger, like a leaf, she could not believe that that was a pishov, without saying a word of farewell to her. True, mav was true on the spot, buv wounds, that one became more painful, after wine, bandaging, going once again to the father's house, and її did not want to pamper. The master spoke unhappily from the father about that other master Jovan, that and pishov sobi.

As if by resentment, drowsing on the tapchan in the unfinished palace, Atilia smelled wondrous sounds from the chanter. The svitlitsa bula was filled with various speeches that had not yet been arranged, and one of Nikolich's servants recited them. Vіn povіlno reading behind the warehouses of his papers:

— Stіlets, stіl, two more stiltsі, a candle, one more candle, a scarf, a sieve, a silnichka, a cloth, a mortar...

Here Atilia stumbled that all the speeches in the chandelier start from the same sound. It’s not like Damascus was engraved with her “in letters”. Tse, you’re lying, they didn’t say anything about it, for the blame that Damascus remembered, if he guessed that the father was playing like that. Abo remembered that she was like a girl who was so happy with “her child”. I tse її zvorushila. The whole “message” was bulo, that one is more wondrous, the godly word could not be folded, going from one to the next letter s.

At this point Atilii was asleep in thought. From the shuffler, she got the key to the far side and ran there. їdistant її made a noise. The walls were bare, and the stele was finished, frayed and shone with gypsum and gilding. It depicted a blue sky with the Sun, Moon and stars. The sun was given to the most vicarious. It looked like a golden year old, which, unfortunately, did not appear, zupinivshis for 10 khvilin to the tenth. It was even more wondrous in the sky: there were more than a few stars shining there. Nainizhcha was spinning over the window, at some point lying, not at all at the cursed vault, a boat, such itself, as if it had broken the Atilia from the breadcrumbs and the wooden sticks for stuffing the Damascus cradle of that first day at my house.

“Nache go about sailing,” thought Atilia, “why Damaskin calls me on the road!” Nache Mushu straight ahead for the dawns, abi do not get lost. Ale, it’s unlikely that everything was going to be ...

She stared at the speeches placed by the pope under the wall. At first glance, it was here and there it was stuffed up without any fret. She immediately chimed in and translated them, realizing that objects in the distance are not repaired by all the letters themselves, like in the light. You can try it out. She began to move the first letters of the objects on the right side of the entrance, but nothing came out. Todi began to be angry to the right, and my heart began to sparkle like happiness, if the message was formed. It sounded neimovirno and nezrazumilo, but there was a buzz. Pochatkovі letters of speeches in a row can be put together in three words.

“Arshin a hundred miles” - they recounted the objects placed at the palace, and the speech ended in one s vikon and mortar. The message of Damascus, without a doubt, was in the house. Yogo only had to be respectfully read.

- Berry! Atilia boomed with a radiant voice and punished the viznikovs to die, if only they would be from the first to the other star on the distant stele.

That znіyakovіv, but having listened.

- Arshin with a half - moving vin with drabini.

- What is the place for a hundred and fifty miles away? - Atilia asked out of sum'yatty.

- Marvel at what kind of bіk virushiti, pannochko. Mi, so be moving, in Adi. If we tear it down for a day, then who knows, where we can go, to Belgrade, maybe more far ...

“To go out, we don’t know anything else,” Atilia said to herself, and again she wondered at the Sun at the sight of the year.

On her breasts, on a golden lance, she has a year-old compass. Vona yelled yoga and marveled.

- 10 to ten - pіvnіchny zahіd! she whimpered and energized Yagoda: “Is there a place a hundred and fifty miles away from the pub to the harbour?”

- That Budim, shanovna pannochko, what else?

- Peace away! Atilia croaked to youma.

Stand between the other and the third star on the stele was three times smaller, lower between the first two, it was an arshin and thirty, which means that it was necessary to see Pest їhat 130 miles. According to the celestial map of Damascus, Atilia could at once shift her head without a compass, for help with a star. Tsey other vіdtinok way vіv її mayzhe just on the way. It was clearly shown by the stars in the distant sky.

Stand between the third and fourth stars was ice arshins with a tail, and tse, as if Atilia's roses were exactly, it became even close to a hundred miles. And again the zirka led її just to the stop. Only qiu, the fourth, the star was painted differently, like others. It was marked in the sky in the form of a golden cross.

- Buckle up! Atilia Yagodya cooed and roared, thinking: “I’m guessing Damaskinos won’t send me to the monastery?”

Already on the coming day, she asked the father to allow virushiti on the road. He gave me a lacquered gilded carriage, Yagoda for a vіznik, hortіv and his own contemplative thoughts, so that the tops accompanied him. The servants of the wine were dressed at the holy day, and one runner on a greyhound horse was sent for one day to ride the tops forward, so that the wine was drunk at Pesht nichlіg. Atilia put her chort from the room for music into her carriage, and the stench hung around the next day.

At Pest, Atilia spent the night, then at Budim, in the same confectionery room of the church of St.

- What can be there? — the confectioner said chirpingly.

- Marry until Sunday!

So Pannochka Atiliya went until Sunday, roaming what would happen after Sunday, and Yagoda clamored for nothing for her, the servants, the horses and the dogs. At Vidnya Atiliya zvelila, zgіdno іz vkazіvki z Damaskinovoї їdalnі, dalі to rise in price just on the way. At St. Polten, the stench chirped out of the windowsills of gleaming violins. Above the entrance is written in golden letters Bulo:

"EUSTAHIUS STOSS".

Now Atilia herself was feeding the road.

- How far away are the stars, to Linz, where is the great monastery there? - she slept in the old violin master.

- Avzhezh, - vidpovіv їy toy. - There will be, gnedige Fraulein, Kremsmünster!

For five days, therefore, Atilia sat in the hotel of the Kremsmünster township and wrote the father's sheet. I wanted to often convey to you the enchantment of unforgettable hostility, as if I had taken it off in the same place for the remaining three days.

Love tattoo!

The Kremsmünster lies at the bottom, above the Krems River. Even though the place is small, there were a lot of burning stone houses here. From one side, a mountain hangs over the place, in the semblance of a great monastery, enriched with wonderful embellishments. At the new one live the chentsi of the Catholic faith, who are called Benedictines, and their animal husbandry is called the prelate (which is the rank of archimandrite). A place to belong to that monastery. Mishche and two miles did not come close to the new one, if he showed himself, but then and pid їhav before us the representative of the prelate, the forstmeister (so be it, senior over the myslivtsy). Vіdaє vіdає y usієyu dovkolishny land and forests of that place of that monastery, manages the zoo there, the rate for the breeding of riba and fishery. Vin galloping ahead, and behind him four hurriedly picked up myslivtsiv with towels. Having approached, having asked about our elder rolls, shards and Yagoda, in his front dress, went over the top in front of us, then vydpoviv, but tse vin. Todi forstmeister took off his green oxamite hat with white chinese, handed over the breeze to the prelate, and also did not drive in the animals and birds. After punishing Yagoda, so that no one can shoot, or catch game with chortas and sing the forstmaster, who himself is especially responsible for the monastic maetok, and you will not be a bad boy.

To our thoughts of the wines, I once again called to tie the dogs. And I punished the servants, so that I would tie my horta, even if it’s true, I couldn’t tie them, I could have been a rich shkodi, because nowhere before were the styles of hares and the most intriguing birds and the styles of herds of deer and sarn.

Forstmeister, after babbling, like something, punishing his lads to kill two pheasants for us. It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, there was a lot of grass in the grass, and on the trees it was too rich. To remember, like a bell, they brought a couple of pheasants, the forstmaster handed them over to our viznikov, passed the miles, said goodbye to Yagoda and galloped swiftly with his people to the place, we followed him, and in the city rose for the night.

That very evening, having sent the prelate two chantsiv, to ask us all for the next day. On the next day, the eleventh, we came to the monastery. In the first world, the prelate greeted us as a guest. They brought kava and rakia. Who chim bazhav, tim and ate. The prelate spoke to us about different speeches, about the war and about the land, from which we came, and so an hour passed before the offense.

If we went to the far, the lines were already on the table. The crockery was made of srіbla, the style was marmur, the laces of the maizhe were two and a half, and the hem was close to two arshins. Steel vibrating with bright barves, shining red, green, blue, white and yellow. The edge of the style on the bottom of the gilding. At the center, standing a taril mayzhe in arshin zavbіlshki. A pipe was inserted up to the plate, as if it appeared under the table, and on that pipe there was a whale, a viliy srebla. Vіn imagining that whale, which he shoveled, and then wriggling out of his womb the prophet Jonah. The whole whale itself, without a plate, as we were told, is worth twenty pounds. Luska on a new leg of gold. On the inner side of the crown stood two finely crafted circles, one silver and the other gilded, and on them were gilded black crystals and kelikhs with beer. Later, wine was sharpened in them.

Tilki-but mi strength for steel, the prelate twisted the taril, and from the whale's nostrils, water began to flow like flowers. The flowers were thin, like a goose feather, up to two arshins high, moreover, streamers came out of the teeth, and two thin flowers flowed from the two, like a thread, flowers.

Stele їdalni embellished with paintings and gold. The paintings depicted different undertones in history. The walls were lined with stone slabs, marmur nights stood in one hutch, and above them in the wall there was a faucet with a gilded midi. Cold water flowed from that tap, and it was poured into kelikhs and served to the table. At the overnight stays, the kelikhs were poured, and the water flowed down to the bottom. Hangings on the doors and windows were koshtovni, with gold trimmings, kititsa and tasms. At the hour of the offence, the church organ played different songs. The pidloga was made of pea boards, covered with settings of different colors.

After insulting us, we went to the chambers of the prelate, where they treated us with malt and kava.

The vrantsі p_slya tsikh vіdvidin the prelate gave me a companion until the Sunday, and if you need it, then far away.

- Tse lieutenant, my trusted person, - having added the wine, - you already know this, but you will be guilty with us on the offense.

So it ended, the tattoo, in the best rank, and tomorrow your daughter will break back to you

Atilia.

Then Atilia leaned back, blinded by the luxury of the prelate. The lieutenant of the right suprovodzhuv її ride on a beautiful black horse at the entrance of St. Polten, having treated him with lemonade. Nadvechir Atiliya asked for a lieutenant to the carriage. Without a snarling gallop of his horse, passing the sway of the viznikov Berries, the knight of the legs from the stirrups and descending to the step of the carriage.

Hort blushed, then she began to caress.

The lieutenant usivsya the order from Atiliya and forged a book because of the cuff.

- What, sir lieutenant? Atilia chuckled.

- Well, now, sing, you want to read, and what about you, I’m perekon, zdivuє.

- It’s important to call me, sir lieutenant.

- Then read it.

The hand of an officer in a black mitten with a golden tutunnitsa at the sight of a ring handed Atili a book. On the palette stood:

"ZHITTEPIS OF GENERAL MAJOR AND CAVALIER SIMEON,
SINA STEFAN PISCHEVICH
(at Roca 1744-1784)

Viden 1802"

Atilia lit the book, and the lieutenant showed it, from which month to read. She read it, more and more marveling. In the book it was literally written like this:

“... The Kremsmünster lies at the bottom, above the Krems River. Even though the place is small, there were a lot of burning stone houses here. From one side, a mountain hangs over the place, in the semblance of a great monastery, enriched with wonderful embellishments. At the new one live the chentsi of the Catholic faith, who are called Benedictines, and their animal husbandry is called the prelate (which is the rank of archimandrite). A place to lie down for your monastery. Mishche and two miles did not get close to the new one, if he showed himself, but then we went to Phav before us, the representative of the prelate, the forstmeister (so be it, senior over the myslivtsy). Vіdaє vіdaє vіdaє sієyu dovkolishny land and forests tsgo mіsta that monastery, manages th there zvіrint, the rate for the breeding of riba and fishing. Vin galloping in front, and behind him four richly picked up myslivtsiv with towels ... "

Atilia was reading a description of that visit to the Kremsmünster in 1744 in a hollowed-out voice. Word for word here, it was described to the very ones who saw it and about what the father wrote later. And deer, th sarny, th zustrіch іz forstmaistrom ta yogo myslivtsy, y tying hortіv, і like the people of the forstmeister shot the game and gave її nepodіdіv guests, і rosy obіd і the prelate, sіbniy utensils і marmurovy stіl pіglіd kofounі Luskoy ... I, nareshti, psnі, scho were victorious on the organ, and in the last edition of the book it was written:

“After insult, we again went to the chambers of the prelate, where they treated us with malt and kava.”

With a book in her hands, Atilius spent an hour mumbling on her seat, her hair upholstered in oxamite. In the book, the mustache went exactly like that, like a teacher in a її damp life.

- Devi, y-y-God, did you know it's wonderful? And who is this Tsey Pishchevich? What is your relative? - Atilia greeted her companion, with a slight fear, turning the book over to him, - to wind up a bunch of gifts of pheasants. I don’t know anymore why I went to visit before the prelate the day before, just a hundred years later, why am I going from Kremsmünster at once, why did I go to books?

“Just from the book, pannochko Atiliya is innate,” moving the lieutenant and translating the rozmov into another: “Sing it, you in the Kremsmünster there were a few chimals.

- So, let's wait, let's calm down. True, they stunned me ... So, in Kremsmünster, I was especially panicked by one. Yakiy Aleksandar.

- Tell me. Infection you greet me, wanting to greet me more importantly, pannochko Atiliy. Father, I'm ready.

— Do you really think?

— I hear.

— I stop hearing, — Atilia’s motto and laughed. Piece by piece. The back of the chest. Let's keep our mouths shut. Turning me and pishov sobi. I eat, what do you want in me? Siv on those mine with little vouchers, about the basics, start caulking water, and redeem me on my chest, scorching me and pishov sobi. I don’t know why I want to come and visit... I know the lie here, like here, garniy, kremezny, the first time to enter in the door. Siv on my lizhko, having smeared me, knocking down that and pishov again. Skin day so. I don’t really know what I wanted to see in me. How do you guess, the lieutenant?

At the sound of the words, both pierced with zі smikha, the lieutenant bowed Atilius to himself and said:

- I know what I want, I want to woo you, dear pannochko Atiliya.

With these words, the lieutenant put Atilius on his knees, winter

dears, and Atilia whispered to you in a piercing voice:

- Dozhen me, dozhen me, I'm hot!

Sprat of whilin after the kohannya, having happily torn down the carriages at the kolikhannya, pannochka Atiliya roared in the arms of her dear:

- The shortest Aleksandar, the lower Aleksandar, I do not know.

Vaughn could not bachit, because the hand of the betrothed, like її was bitter, the silver thimble was small under the mitten of the index finger.

(If you haven’t read the “Resting Room” section, take up the section. If you have read it, then you’ll have an end of advice.)

resting place

Hort shuddered on the ground, if Atilia did not water the music with music, so that she would gnaw on the bottom of the piano. So it was the first time. Atilia did not play. On the roof of the piano, she wrote sheets and cried. Hour after hour, the dog, having pinned its laziness busy, and wondering restlessly at the owner.

Dear Maister Jovane,

As you see, my father drove away, without paying them a penny, Damaskin and yoga robots. Movlyav, you don't want to pay for an unfinished house. Somehow stink wine. And your father will not pay you more, more "boxwood is not growing" - so it seems.

I through tse vіdchuvayu dokori sumlіnnya, shards in the mustache wine my father. Who knows, de and blamed them before Kim. Therefore, I myself will beat you up, which you have recognized, and I will also raise pennies for Damascus and yoga robots - father borg in front of them. You can only know them in the houses. Any me, any my viznikov did not spare the attack on their trail. If you are short of it, hurry for the life of the church to the one in whom the church grows with boxwood.

I’m already covered, because everything about my future wedding ended so unkindly. But look in the evening: the sky is dawning, and above it the all-world has a majestic, all-encompassing thought ...

Your yak donka

Atilia.

After that, like a penny of that leaf, it was sent, Atiliya began to take her father's chortivs for a walk, so that the stench sharpened their claws. There was a spring, a garden, which had been planted for a long time before the father's house, spirits in some arable fields, and other growths (specially selected with the help of the method) wafted the freshness of the afternoon in the sinter, and the night-time kviti were smelling of their aroma on the month. Atiliya wept over the urns, which had been set up by the unfortunate Shuvakovich for collecting tears, an hour passed, the months merged. Atilia virishila let her long scythe go. Vaughn drank the young moon, cut her hair and laid a stone under the stone, so that the birds would not blow up to their nests.

Now she checked, while she grew hairy. I felt myself, її naming Aleksandar buv on a distant trip, the architects Jovan Damaskin and Jovan Lestvichnik disappeared invisibly, the father didn’t understand and welded with him right away, if he was similar to his late mother, and vin bov was especially similar to his dead squad Maria in a week that is holy ...

Yakos uranium Berry came zbentezheny and brought the Lord an important sign:

- Boxwood has fallen! Boxwood is growing again!

It was true that this was the case: the green temple of the elder master Jovan Lestvichnik rose anew to the sky, if you please, but it was inspired.

“It means that this is another temple, from a stone, above the Tisza, it’s the same growth,” having grown the visnovok Nikolic and at the same time hastened just to his mother under Adoyu.

Prote there їх chekalo rozcharuvannya. Rospochata and unfinished life bula in the zhalugidny camp. The stone was robbed to get to the pidmurkiv, that the ice looked through the chagar groves, the bourgeoisie and the zanedbaniste panuvali there, where there was life.

Oskazheniliy Nikolic wanted to dig the Hort with his foot, like a spinning order, but guessing that the Hort would bite Yogo on the leg, and streaming. Vin siv at the carriage and turning back home.

Atilia did not follow him. Vaughn sat on the birch of the river and sang up her voice:

Nadvechir came out at the unfinished palaces. At the critical gallery, on the wall under the columns, there was a large map of all parts of Potiss with glazed celins. With bright barves of vipalen clay, a navkolyshnіy kraєvid is depicted - i Hell, th palace over Tisoy, y haї, take care of that place in the distance. At the bottom, the mapi scale in miles is given. And at the upper kutka, a great ball of the earth's kuli was painted, pierced by two arrows, which meant the sides of the world.

At the light with a bright cominette on one of the windows, she knew the keys to the room. And trochs were far away - the great wooden compass of Damascus.

- You divi, you forget it!

The whole thing was like-not-like, but the messenger of the new one, and it turned Atilia in. The resting place was not locked, so Atilia entered. From the Damascus chair, she knew that this room was annoying the palace. That Atilia did not agree that she was so big, round, with a splendid round face in the middle. The girl, weeping, fell on the bed.

It was already pimping, and she went to spend the night in the palace, brought in the chorta and ordered the servants to bring supper to bed. їla with malt, as if she had wept, she marveled at the chimera light. The hair crackled wildly, and the deep-eyed ripples of old roses rushed through thoughts and strayed. Two silences panned close by — one was small, in the palace, and the other was a vast courtyard in the middle of the night, as it became fearful to inspire horts ... Todia Atilia glanced at the window, there were three of them. One marveled at Tisa, the river was not visible at night, and suddenly the freshness of that spirit of water shed. From Tisi, she felt a zoyk, that she lied to її, and Atiliya virіshila closed the door. Ale, having screeched the key, that lock did not want to be spratsovuvat. Yakby Atilia absolutely did not trust Damaskin's rightness, then she would have thought, no matter the castle is wrong. And so, far away, she turned the key, wrap it wildly. Just for the thirtyth time the lock clicked and closed the door. Tse even more aggravated Atilius. Vaughn did not know how to open the doors again, and with a flicker she showed that she could be left trapped in the palace. And for the thirtieth time on the thirtieth turn of the key, the doors were opened without zusil. Enraged by the fear of crying, marveling at the window that overlooked the Tisza, Atilia fell asleep.

Vranci її woke up the sun. Damaskin so raztashuvav sleeping chamber, shchob Atiliya skin wound awakened by the sun. Nearly it was wide and round, then a resting place was seen with a pair of compasses. Atilia guessed about the knowledge of the compass and thought:

- I’ll put the compass in the middle of the resting place, so it’s easy on the eye, on which I’m lying ...

And then Atilia zayknula, mayzhe vіdchuvshi Damaskinі v compasses promіzh nіg.

“What a Damascene beshketnik,” thought Vaughn casually.

Trohi otamivshis, but not knowing sponkuvan Atiliya renewed the account. Vaughn got up from her bed, went to the window, flooded with sun, and їy went down. At the garden behind the window stood a dark stone girl with green hair. With her cursing eyes, she marveled at Atilius and beckoned her with the finger of her left hand. The right hand in her bula was beaten.

“That’s the statue, I’m like a Damascene,” guessed Atilia and immediately realized that the sculpture was turned to the edge, without the father’s vision, like a messenger of the views of Damascus. line krіz othe vіkno on skhіd, where the statue is called to me. How did I give him stilks, skіlki needed, abyss trapilos, maybe, vіdkriyu, what else Damaskin conveys to me. How far do you need to go?

Atilia wanted to go into the garden, but again she paved the way for the castle. Thirty times she tried to turn the key, like a star, the doors were opened. And then everything became clear. Tse number really was the advancing words of the Damascus leaf without words.

Vaughn entered the gallery, approached Mali, built a Damascus compass at Tisu Bil Adi, de Bouve Palace, and circled it around with a radius of 30 miles, serving as a scale from the bottom of the mapi. Potim from the center spent a straight line just to the exit. Kolo and radius tumbled into a place that I can hardly call Temishvar. Atilia radiantly jumped and grunted Yagoda:

- Harness, rushaemo on the road! To Temishvar!

At that place, they showed the well-built Church of the Entry. Vaughn immediately recognized her for the little one, whose hour was crushed by Jovan Lestvichnik

for dad. The temple is just like that, like that, boxwood, only here there are buildings made of stone and marmur, with their own symbolic windows. Ce bula, without a trace, the church of the head master Jovan, is dedicated to the Entry of the Most Holy Theotokos to the Temple.

Atilia entered the church.

“Come in, come in, panel Atiliy, we’ve been checking on you for a long time,” the priest said and seated him on a bench near the vvtar. Over the seats, Atiliya spun the garno of the coat of arms of Nikolichiv from Rudnya, her own coat of arms:

The priest gave me a message with a seal and a screenshot. The posvіdka called the right of the Volodymyr to the Church of the Entry. The message was seen on the name of Atiliy. The screen had two people.

“A gift from Master Jovan for you and your betrothed,” the priest explained. From the inner side on both rings it was shaped according to the letter A.

- Which Jovan? - Atilia was sleeping. - There are two of them!

- So right there and two people, - sighed pip and chuckled.

(If you didn’t read the “distant” section, then read it at once. If you read it, then you’ve got the end of the warning.)

Milorad Pavic

Damascus

Novella for computer and carpenter's compass

Once, at the end of the 18th century, a certain Turk, a ferryman on the Drina, the same one who boiled chicken eggs for greater safety in horse urine, with surprise and conscientiously counting everyone he transported, informed his superiors that in the Osata region, eight hundred Serbian architects had crossed to the Serbian side , masons and carpenters, all eight hundred named Jovan. In a fit of a kind of building trance, they literally flooded the recent battlefield of the just past Austro-Turkish war. Driven by an equally unparalleled impulse, anticipating great things, architects and masons from Karlovac, Zemun, Sremskaya Mitrovica, Novi Sad, Osijek, from Panchev, Ruma moved to the Danube Valley to meet them? in a word, who is from the city, and who is directly from the plow. These masons and woodworkers, Wingengers, Ubaukünstlers, Ubaugautpmans, carpenters and carpenters, as well as masters of finishing and marble craftsmen, bought mules during the day, choosing those that, while they nibble grass and drink, use all five senses, for otherwise what this is a mule, and at night they saw themselves standing on the shores of the disappeared sea, and in their dreams it still continued to hum and roll waves of plowed black earth from north to south of Pannonia, hitting a mountain range near Belgrade.

In the shortest possible time, they restored on an unprecedented scale both the Mesic Monastery and the courtyard of the Vrdnik Monastery, erected new churches in the towns of Krneshevtsi, Stara Pazova, Chortanovtsi on Fruska Gora and Bukovac, completed the construction of the cathedral in the city of Karlovac, the bell tower in Beska, the temple in Erdevik, the St. Nicholas Church in Iriga. Serbs from Ravnica or from Bosnia, and with them numerous Czechs, Germans and Thracian Vlachs, began to conclude treaties right and left, crowning them with clumsy signatures? cross, Cyrillic or Latin. All the eight hundred Jovans on the other side of the Drina, all those Stanareviches, Lausheviches, Vlashichis, Aksentieviches, Dmitrieviches, Lanericis, Georgieviches, Wagners, Meisingers, Langsters, Hintenmeiers, Bauers, Ebenys, Huskies, Kindles, Blombergers and Gackers, brought their ships loaded with logs and stone, their horses, dragging lead, sand and lime, and saw in a dream their wives as they were, of course, no longer. The builders did not know how to cry in their sleep, and it was unbearable. They vied with each other to offer their services to the lowland landowners and Serbian merchants, extolling their art and proudly listing their titles and recommendations. They, who wore mustaches, some in Constantinople, some in Vienna, and some in Pest fashion, undertook in two empires, in Austrian and Ottoman, unprecedented undertakings in the field of construction, receiving for their work either imperial ducats with images of Joseph II and his mother, now old sequins, now new napoleons, now silver forints and silver-plated perpers, without renouncing, however, either Egyptian dinars, or circumcised and uncircumcised Turkish asprs, and sometimes not disdaining even the ancient folars that went in Kotor. They built and built, not forgetting to check the authenticity of the coins with red nutmeg wine. They built continuously. From fatigue, they sometimes forgot themselves, their lives, continuing to remember only smells.

Seeing dreams in five languages ​​and overshadowing themselves with two different crosses, the architects erected new Orthodox churches in the towns of Bachevtsy, Kupinovo, Mirkovtsi, Yakovo, Mihaljevac, Bezhaniya, near Zemun and Dobrintsi. They rinsed their beards in the bags of their horses. They were most willing to take on buildings to the north of the Usolana Line, which runs along the mountain range near Belgrade, separating the northern salt marshes in those places where the Pannonian Sea used to reach, from the rich southern black earth in those places where neither sea nor salt had ever been. . Erecting Serbian churches over salt deposits in the valleys of the Danube and Sava, they deliberately ate and drank with a squint, so that the built ones stood stronger. They erected new churches both in Shida and in the monasteries of Yasko and Kuvezhdin.

Then, at the invitation of the Metropolitan Karlovatsky, they moved to the fertile lands south of the Usolana line, and began to observe their Serbian, Greek and Lutheran posts there, renovating or rebuilding the monasteries of Krivaija, St. Beating their horses in the muzzle with backhand, as they beat their wives, they went through the Serbian uprising of 1804 with their trowels and carpenter's axes, because the Serbian merchants who traded in pigs, wool, grain and wax paid for this revolution and paid for the restoration of the monasteries of Krchmar, Bogovadzha, Racha, on the Drina, Volyavcha, Klisura on the Moravice River and Moravtsi under the Rudnik mountain.

Some architects and carpenters, who fed their heavy trucks with salt and flour, restored the ancient monasteries that suffered during the Turkish invasion? Manasia, Ravanitsa, Transfiguration and Nicole. Others at this time were hired to build mansions for the wealthy nobility.

Did these new buildings still retain traces of ancient Greek architecture or the Empire style? columns, tympanums, torn pediments. These are, for example, the palace of the Servijski family in Turkish Kanizsa, or the house of the Czarnojevics in Orosina, or the mansion of the Tekelija family in Arad, or the Stratimirovic villas in Kulpina, the Odeskalkas' chambers in Ilok, the mansions of the Eltz families in Vukovar, the Hadik in Futoga, the Gražalkovićs in Sombor, or Martsibani in Kamenitsa. Did the headquarters of the Austrian garrisons, which were stationed on the border, acquire a similar appearance? in Petrovaradin, Titel, Zemun, in the cities of Pancevo and Vrsac. Did the new masons, on whose guild banners the carpenter's compasses were inscribed, deviate from the traditions of their grandfathers and predecessors? from all those clumsy tabernacles, ornate cartouches, heavy cornices. Using only rulers and plumb lines, these craftsmen decorated the buildings of the magistrates in the cities of Karlovtsi, Temishvar and Kikinda with simple facades with attics and oval cartouches, and then with empire portals with a classical pediment plane. The case was crowned by the Empire-style facades of the Kursaal in Melentsi and the building of the local government in Bashaid.

Not all the authors of these buildings have become equally known. At the dawn of the new, XIX century, more than other centers of building art, the village of Martintsi became famous? thanks to one person from a family of hereditary architects, who from generation to generation gave first-class architects to Tslevsha. It was master Dimitri Shuvakovich. Starting from 1808, he and his assistants, the Marblers, built everything that merchants and rich artisans were willing to pay for in the towns of Banovci, Klenak, Adashevac, Beshenova, Divosh, Vizich, Grgurevtsi, Ledintsi, Neshtin and Yamina. His motto was and remains: If you want to live happily ever after on earth, do not spare yourself in anything.