Потерянный континент: история Атлантиды
12. The Drug Of Our Lady The Moon
Itisnecessarytodoone’sworkcleanlyinthesebouts,aswoundedleftonthegroundunnoticedbeforeoneareasdangerousassomanysnakes.ButaswecircledroundinourbattlingInotedthatallofPhorenice’squarrylaypeacefulandstill.BytheGods!butshecouldplayafinesword,thisdaintyEmpress.Shetouchedlifewitheverythrust.
Yes,itwasplaintosee,nowanexamplewasgiven,thatthethroneofAtlantishadbeenwon,notbyalovelyfaceandasubtletonguealone;and(asafightermyself)IdidnotlikePhorenicethelessfortheknowledge.Icouldbutseeheroutofthecornerofmyeye,andthatonlynowandagain,forthefishers,despitetheirill-knowledgeoffence,andtheclumsinessoftheirweapons,hadheavynumbers,andmostsavageferocity;andastheymadesoconfidentofbeingabletopullusdown,itrequiredmorethanalittlehardbattlingtokeepthemfromdoingit.Ay,bytheGods!itwasattimesafightmyheartwarmedto,andifIhadnotcontrivedtopluckashieldfromonefoolwhocametoovain-gloriouslynearmewithone,Icouldnotsweartheywouldnothavedraggedmedownbysheerraveningsavageness.
AndalwaysabovetheburlyuproarofthefightcameverypleasantlytomyearsPhorenice’scryof“Deucalion!”whichshechoseasherbattleshout.Iknewher,ofcourse,tobeapast-mistressoftheartofcompliment,anditwasnonewthingformetohearthenameroaredoutaboveabattledin,butitwasgiventhereundercircumstanceswhichwerepeculiar,andforthelifeofmeIcouldnothelpbeingtickledbytheflattery.
