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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Портрет художника в юности
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- Стр. 115/241
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--
I
wish
it
would
clear
up
.
I
had
arranged
to
go
for
a
spin
on
the
bike
with
some
fellows
out
by
Malahide
.
But
the
roads
must
be
knee-deep
.
--
It
might
clear
up
,
sir
.
The
voices
that
he
knew
so
well
,
the
common
words
,
the
quiet
of
the
classroom
when
the
voices
paused
and
the
silence
was
filled
by
the
sound
of
softly
browsing
cattle
as
the
other
boys
munched
their
lunches
tranquilly
,
lulled
his
aching
soul
.
There
was
still
time
.
O
Mary
,
refuge
of
sinners
,
intercede
for
him
!
O
Virgin
Undefiled
,
save
him
from
the
gulf
of
death
!
The
English
lesson
began
with
the
hearing
of
the
history
.
Royal
persons
,
favourites
,
intriguers
,
bishops
,
passed
like
mute
phantoms
behind
their
veil
of
names
.
All
had
died
:
all
had
been
judged
.
What
did
it
profit
a
man
to
gain
the
whole
world
if
he
lost
his
soul
?
At
last
he
had
understood
:
and
human
life
lay
around
him
,
a
plain
of
peace
whereon
ant-like
men
laboured
in
brotherhood
,
their
dead
sleeping
under
quiet
mounds
.
The
elbow
of
his
companion
touched
him
and
his
heart
was
touched
:
and
when
he
spoke
to
answer
a
question
of
his
master
he
heard
his
own
voice
full
of
the
quietude
of
humility
and
contrition
.
His
soul
sank
back
deeper
into
depths
of
contrite
peace
,
no
longer
able
to
suffer
the
pain
of
dread
,
and
sending
forth
,
as
he
sank
,
a
faint
prayer
.
Ah
yes
,
he
would
still
be
spared
;
he
would
repent
in
his
heart
and
be
forgiven
;
and
then
those
above
,
those
in
heaven
,
would
see
what
he
would
do
to
make
up
for
the
past
:
a
whole
life
,
every
hour
of
life
.
Only
wait
.
--
All
,
God
!
All
,
all
!
A
messenger
came
to
the
door
to
say
that
confessions
were
being
heard
in
the
chapel
.
Four
boys
left
the
room
;
and
he
heard
others
passing
down
the
corridor
.
A
tremulous
chill
blew
round
his
heart
,
no
stronger
than
a
little
wind
,
and
yet
,
listening
and
suffering
silently
,
he
seemed
to
have
laid
an
ear
against
the
muscle
of
his
own
heart
,
feeling
it
close
and
quail
,
listening
to
the
flutter
of
its
ventricles
.
No
escape
.
He
had
to
confess
,
to
speak
out
in
words
what
he
had
done
and
thought
,
sin
after
sin
.
How
?
How
?
