"A Child's History of England" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickens Charles)

Rome entreating help - which they called the Groans of the Britons;
and in which they said, 'The barbarians chase us into the sea, the
sea throws us back upon the barbarians, and we have only the hard
choice left us of perishing by the sword, or perishing by the
waves.' But, the Romans could not help them, even if they were so
inclined; for they had enough to do to defend themselves against
their own enemies, who were then very fierce and strong. At last,
the Britons, unable to bear their hard condition any longer,
resolved to make peace with the Saxons, and to invite the Saxons to
come into their country, and help them to keep out the Picts and
Scots.

It was a British Prince named VORTIGERN who took this resolution,
and who made a treaty of friendship with HENGIST and HORSA, two
Saxon chiefs. Both of these names, in the old Saxon language,
signify Horse; for the Saxons, like many other nations in a rough
state, were fond of giving men the names of animals, as Horse,
Wolf, Bear, Hound. The Indians of North America, - a very inferior
people to the Saxons, though - do the same to this day.

HENGIST and HORSA drove out the Picts and Scots; and VORTIGERN,
being grateful to them for that service, made no opposition to
their settling themselves in that part of England which is called
the Isle of Thanet, or to their inviting over more of their
countrymen to join them. But HENGIST had a beautiful daughter
named ROWENA; and when, at a feast, she filled a golden goblet to
the brim with wine, and gave it to VORTIGERN, saying in a sweet
voice, 'Dear King, thy health!' the King fell in love with her. My
opinion is, that the cunning HENGIST meant him to do so, in order
that the Saxons might have greater influence with him; and that the
fair ROWENA came to that feast, golden goblet and all, on purpose.

At any rate, they were married; and, long afterwards, whenever the
King was angry with the Saxons, or jealous of their encroachments,
ROWENA would put her beautiful arms round his neck, and softly say,
'Dear King, they are my people! Be favourable to them, as you
loved that Saxon girl who gave you the golden goblet of wine at the
feast!' And, really, I don't see how the King could help himself.

Ah! We must all die! In the course of years, VORTIGERN died - he
was dethroned, and put in prison, first, I am afraid; and ROWENA
died; and generations of Saxons and Britons died; and events that
happened during a long, long time, would have been quite forgotten
but for the tales and songs of the old Bards, who used to go about
from feast to feast, with their white beards, recounting the deeds
of their forefathers. Among the histories of which they sang and
talked, there was a famous one, concerning the bravery and virtues
of KING ARTHUR, supposed to have been a British Prince in those old
times. But, whether such a person really lived, or whether there
were several persons whose histories came to be confused together