Потерянный континент: история Атлантиды
6. The Biters Of The City Walls
Imayowetoyou,oldman,asmallparcelofthanks,thoughthatIofferedtorepay;butformylordsthepriests,theirpermissionwasofsmallenoughvaluewhenitcame.IwouldhaveyourememberthatIwasasfirmonthethroneofAtlantisasthispyramidstandsuponitsbasewhenyourworn-outpriestscameuptogivetheirtotteringbenediction.”
Theoldmanwavedasideherinterruption.“Hearmeout,”hesaid.“Iamherewithnotrivialmessage.ThereisnothingpaltryaboutthethreatIcanthrowatyou,Phorenice.Withyourfire-tubes,yourhandlingoftroops,andyourotherfiendishclevernesses,youmaynotbeeasytooverthrowbymerehumanmeans,though,forsooth,thesepoorrebelswhoyapagainstyourcitywallshavecontrivedtoholdtheirgroundforlongenoughnow.Itmaybethatyouarebecomingenervated;Idonotknow.Itmaybethatyouaretoowrappedupinyourfeastings,yourdressings,yourpomps,andyourdebaucheries,tofindleisuretoturntotheartofwar.Itmaybethattheman’sspirithasgoneoutfromyourarmandbrain,andyouareawomanoncemore—weak,andpleasure-loving;againIdonotknow.
“Butthismusthappen:Youmustundotheevilyouhavedone;youmustgivebreadtothepeoplewhoarestarving,evenifyoutakeitfromthesegluttonsinthishall;youmustrestoreAtlantistothestateinwhichitwasentrustedtoyou:orelseyoumustberemoved.Itcannotbepermittedthatthecountryshouldsinkbackintothelawlessnessandbarbarismfromwhichitsancientkingshavediggedit.Youhear,Phorenice.Nowgivemetrueanswer.”
“Speakhimfair.
