"Лорд Дансени. The Gods of the Mountain (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

Slag: {nodding his head}
In his native city they do not now know what became of
the golden cup that stood in the Lunar Temple.

Agmar:
Yes, into seven pieces.

Ulf:
We will each wear a piece of it over our rags.

Oogno:
Yes, yes, we shall look fine.

Agmar:
That is not the way we shall disguise ourselves.

Oogno:
Not cover our rags?

Agmar:
No, no. The first who looked closely would say, "These
are only beggars. They have disguised themselves."

Ulf:
What shall we do?

Agmar:
Each of the seven shall wear a piece of the green
raiment underneath his rags. And peradventure here and
there a little shall show through; and men shall say,
"These seven have disguised themselves as beggars. But
we know not what they be."

Slag:
Hear my wise master.

Oogno: {in admiration}
*He* is a beggar.

Ulf:
He is an *old* beggar.


{Curtain}