"T. H. White - The Once and Future King" - читать интересную книгу автора (White T.H)

burst into a torrent of words, drew the hunting knife which was all he carried, and advanced on
AgravaineтАФthese things simultaneously. The fat man, as if thrown back on the defensive by the impact
of his brother's fury, retreated before him, holding the sword in front with shaking hand.
"Aye," roared Gawaine, "ye ken fine what he means, my bonny butcher. We maun draw on yer ain
brother, for ye ever speired to murder folk unarmed. The curse of the grave-cloth on ye! Put up yon
sword, man! Put it up! What d'ye mean? Is it nae enough that ye should slay our mother? Damn ye, lay
down yon sword, or hae the spunk to fight with it. Agravaine тАФ"
Mordred was slipping behind his back, with a hand on his own dagger. In a second the glint of steel
flashed in the shadows, lit by the owl's eyes, and at the same moment Gareth jumped to the defence. He
caught Mordred by the wrist, crying: "Now enough! Gaheris, look to the others."
"Agravaine, put the sword up! Gawaine, leave him alone,"
"Away, man! I can teach the hound masel'."
"Agravaine, put the sword down quickly, or he will kill you. Be quick, man. Don't be a fool Gawaine,
leave him alone. He didn't mean it Gawaine! Agravaine!"
But Agravaine had made a feeble thrust at the head of the family, which Gawaine turned
contemptuously with his knife. Now the towering old fellow, with the ferret-coloured temples, had
rushed in and pinned him round the waist. The sword clattered to the floor as Agravaine went backward
over the hippocras table, with Gawaine on top of him. The dagger rose in venom to complete the workтАФ
but Gaheris caught it from behind. There was a tableau of perfect silence, all motionless. Gareth held
Mordred. Agravaine, hiding his eyes with the free hand, flinched from the knife. And Gaheris held the
avenging arm suspended.
At this complicated moment the cloister door was opened for the second time, and the courteous page

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announced as impassively as ever: "His Majesty the King!"
Everybody relaxed. They let go of whatever they were holding, and began to move. Agravaine sat up
panting. Gawaine turned away from him, drawing a hand across his face.
"Ach God!" he muttered. "If but I hadna siclike waeful
The King was on the threshold.
He came in, the quiet old man who had done his best so long. He looked older than his age, which was
considerable. His royal eye took in the situation without a nicker. He moved across the cloister to kiss
Mordred gently, smiling upon them all.


3
Lancelot and Guenever were sitting at the solar window. An observer of the present day, who knew the
Arthurian legend only from Tennyson and people of that sort, would have been startled to see that the
famous lovers were past their prime. We, who have learned to base our interpretation of love on the
conventional boy-and-girl romance of Romeo and Juliet, would be amazed if we could step back into the
Middle AgesтАФwhen'the poet of chivalry could write about Man that he had "en del un dieu, par terre
une deesse." Lovers were not recruited then among the juveniles and adolescents: they were seasoned
people, who knew what they were about. In those days people loved each other for their lives, without
the conveniences of the divorce court and the psychiatrist. They had a God in heaven and a goddess on
earthтАФand, since people who devote thelmselves to goddesses must exercise some caution about the
ones to whom they are devoted, they neither chose them by the passing standards of the flesh alone, nor
abandoned it lightly when the bruckle thing began to fail.
Lancelot and Guenever were sitting by the window in the high keep, and Arthur's England stretched