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

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He was always famous for that,"
This time the irony was so heavy that even Gawaine took it as it was,
"I ween it dinna seem likely,"
"Likely? Of course it isn't. That was not Lancelot's line. He was the preux chevalier who always spared
peopleтАФwho never slew a person weaker than himself. That was the high road to Lancelot's popularity.
Do you suppose he would have suddenly dropped this pose, to begin killing unarmed men regardless?"
With a pathetic effort to be fair, Gawaine said; "There seems to be nae reason why he should have killed
them."
"Reason? Was Gareth our brother? He killed him as a reprisal, out of revenge because it was our family
that had caught him with the Queen."
More carefully, he added: "It was because Arthur is fond of you, and he was jealous of your influence.
He planned it fair, to weaken the clan Orkney," "He has weakened himsel'."
"Besides, he was jealous of Gareth. He was afraid that our brother would poach on his preserves. Our
Gareth copied him, which did not suit the preux chevalier. You can't have two knights without
reproach."
The Justice Room had been prepared for the final pageant. It looked barren, with only two men in it.
They were sitting in a curious way, one behind the other on the steps of the throne, which meant that
they did not look each other in the face. Mordred looked at the back of Gawaine's
head, and Gawaine at the floor. He said with a slight choke: "Gareth was the best of us." If he had turned
round quickly, he might have been surprised at the intentness with which he was being watched. The
younger face was at variance with the music of its voice. If you had looked closely, you might have
noticed that Mordred's manner in the past six months had become stranger.
"Dear fellow," he said, "and to be killed by the very man who had his faith."
"It will teach me ne'er to trust the southron."
Mordred altered the pronoun with an imperceptible emphasis.
"Yes, it will teach us."
The old tyrant swung round. He seized the white hand so as to press it, speaking with confusion.
"I was used to thinking it was Agravaine's mischiefтАФ Agravaine's and yours. I thocht ye were over
prejudiced against Sir Lancelot. I am ashamed."
"Blood is thicker than water."

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"It is that, Mordred. A body may clatter about idealsтАФ about right and wrong and matters of that ilkтАФ
but in the end it comes to your ain folk. I mind when Gareth used to rob the priest's wee orchard, by the
cliffтАФ"
He tailed off lamely, till the thin man prompted him.
"His hair was almost white when he was a boy, it was so fair."
"Kay used to name him Pretty Hands."
"That was meant for an insult."
"Aye, but it was true. His hands were bonnie."
"And now he is in his grave."
Gawaine flushed to the eyebrows, the veins swelling at his temples.
"God's curse on them! I willna have this peace. I willna forgive them. Why should King Arthur seek to
smooth it o'er? What business has the Pope within it? It is my brother that was butchered, none of theirs,