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

The cat had come to pieces. The long boiling had shredded its meat away until there was nothing in the
cauldron except a deep scum of hair and grease and gobbets. Underneath, the white bones revolved in
the eddies of the water, the heavy ones lying still and the airy membranes lifting gracefully, like leaves
in an autumn wind. The Queen, wrinkling her nose slightly in the thick stench of unsalted broth, strained

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the liquid into a second pot. On top of the flannel strainer there was left a sediment of cat, a sodden mass
of matted hair and meat shreds and the delicate bone. She blew on the sediment and began turning it
over with the handle of the spoon, prodding it to let the heat out. Later, she was able to sort it with her
fingers.
The Queen knew that every pure black cat had a certain bone in it, which, if it were held in the mouth
after boiling the cat alive, was able to make you invisible. But nobody knew precisely, even in those
days, which the bone was. This was why the magic had to be done in front of a mirror, so that the right
one could be found by practice.
It was not that Morgause courted invisibilityтАФindeed, she would have detested it, because she was
beautiful. But the men were away. It was something to do, an easy and well-known charm. Besides, it
was an excuse for lingering with the mirror.
The Queen scraped the remains of her cat into two heaps, one of them a neat pile of warm bones, the
other a miscellaneous lump which softly steamed. Then she chose one of the bones and lifted it to her
red lips, cocking the little finger. She held it between her teeth and stood in front of the polished brass,
looking at herself with sleepy pleasure. She threw the bone into the fire and fetched another.
There was nobody to see her. It was strange, in these circumstances, the way in which she turned and
turned, from mirror to bone-pile, always putting a bone in her mouth, and looking at herself to see if she
had vanished, and throwing the bone away. She moved so gracefully, as if she were dancing, as if there
really was somebody to see her, or as if it were enough that she should see herself.
Finally, but before she had tested all the bones, she lost interest. She threw the last ones down
impatiently and tipped the mess out of the window, not caring where it fell. Then she smoored the fire,
stretched herself on the big bed with a strange motion, and lay there in the darkness for a long time
without sleepingтАФher body moving discontentedly.
"And this, my heroes," concluded Gawaine, "is the reason why we of Cornwall and Orkney must be
against the Kings of England ever more, and most of all against the clan Mac Pendragon."
"It is why our Da has gone away to fight against King Arthur whatever, for Arthur is a Pendragon. Our
Mammy said so."
"And we must keep the feud living forever," said Agravaine, "because Mammy is a Cornwall. Dame
Igraine is our Granny."
"We must avenge our family."
"Because our Mammy is the most beautiful woman in the high-ridged, extensive, ponderous, pleasantly-

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turning world."
"And because we love her."
Indeed, they did love her. Perhaps we all give the best of our hearts uncriticallyтАФto those who hardly
think about us in return.