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

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"Look," said Gareth. "Look, Meg. Poor Meg, do not cry. It will be with me to let you have some shots
with my catapult, when we go home."
"Oh, Master Gareth!"
"Ach, come your ways. We cannot bother with her."
"There, there!"
"Oh, oh!"
"Meg," said Gawaine, making a frightful face, "if you do not stop squealing, I will look at you like this."
She dried her tears at once.
"Now," he said, "when the unicorn comes, we must all rush out and stick it. Do you understand?"
"Must it be killed?"
"Yes, it must be killed dead."
"I see."
"I hope it will not hurt it," said Gareth.
"That is the sort of foolish hope you would have," said Agravaine.
"But I do not see why it should be killed."
"So that we may take it home to our mother, you amadan."
"Could we catch it," asked Gareth, "and lead it to our mother, do you think? I mean, we could get Meg
to lead it, if it was tame."
Gawaine and Gaheris agreed to this.
"If it is tame," they said, "it would be better to bring it back alive. That is the best kind of Big Game
Hunting."
"We could drive it," said Agravaine. "We could hit it along with sticks.
"We could hit Meg, too," he added, as an afterthought.
Then they hid thelmselves in their ambush, and decided to keep silence. There was nothing to be heard
except the gentle wind, the heather bees, the skylarks very high, and a few distant snuffles from Meg.
When the unicorn came, things were different from what had been expected. He was such a noble
animal, to begin with, that he carried a beauty with him. It held all spellbound who were within sight.
The unicorn was white, with hoofs of silver and a graceful horn of pearl. He stepped daintily over the
heather, scarcely seeming to press it with his airy trot, and the wind made waves in his long mane, which

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had been freshly combed. The glorious thing about him was his eyes. There was a faint bluish furrow
down each side of his nose, and this led up to the eye-sockets, and surrounded them in a pensive shade.
The eyes, circled by this sad and beautiful darkness, were so sorrowful, lonely, gentle and nobly tragic,
that they killed all other emotion except love.
The unicorn went up to Meg the kitchenmaid, and bowed his head in front of her. He arched his neck
beautifully to do this, and the pearl horn pointed to the ground at her feet, and he scratched in the heather
with his silver hoof to make a salute. Meg had forgotten her tears. She made a royal gesture of
acknowledgment, and held her hand out to the animal.
"Come, unicorn," she said. "Lay your head in my lap, if you like."
The unicorn made a whinny, and pawed again with his hoof. Then, very carefully, he went down first on
one knee and then on the other, till he was bowing in front of her. He looked up at her from this position,
with his melting eyes, and at last laid his head upon her knee. He stroked his flat, white cheek against the