Короли и капуста
The Remnants of the Code
Wherethesmokecleared,thecrystalair,withsomeoftheefficacyoffaith,seemedtoremovethemountainsalmosttothesea,bringingthemsonearthatonemightcountthescarredgladesontheirwoodedsides.Thelight-footedCaribswereswiftlyglidingtotheirtasksatthewaterside.Alreadyalongtheboskytrailsfromthebananagrovesfilesofhorseswereslowlymoving,concealed,exceptfortheirnoddingheadsandploddinglegs,bythebunchesofgreen-goldenfruitheapedupontheirbacks.Ondoorsillssatwomencombingtheirlong,blackhairandcalling,onetoanother,acrossthenarrowthoroughfares.PeacereignedinCoralio—aridandbaldpeace;butstillpeace.
OnthatbrightmorningwhenNatureseemedtobeofferingthelotusontheDawn’sgoldenplatter"Beelzebub"Blythehadreachedrockbottom.Furtherdescentseemedimpossible.Thatlastnight’sslumberinapublicplacehaddoneforhim.Aslongashehadhadarooftocoverhimtherehadremained,unbridged,thespacethatseparatesagentlemanfromthebeastsofthejungleandthefowlsoftheair.ButnowhewaslittlemorethanawhimperingoysterledtobedevouredonthesandsofaSouthernseabytheartfulwalrus,Circumstance,andtheimplacablecarpenter,Fate.
ToBlythemoneywasnowbutamemory.Hehaddrainedhisfriendsofallthattheirgood-fellowshiphadtooffer;thenhehadsqueezedthemtothelastdropoftheirgenerosity;andatthelast,Aaron-like,hehadsmittentherockoftheirhardeningbosomsforthescattering,ignobledropsofCharityitself.