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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Портрет художника в юности
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- Стр. 122/241
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A
wasting
breath
of
humiliation
blew
bleakly
over
his
soul
to
think
of
how
he
had
fallen
,
to
feel
that
those
souls
were
dearer
to
God
than
his
.
The
wind
blew
over
him
and
passed
on
to
the
myriads
and
myriads
of
other
souls
on
whom
God
's
favour
shone
now
more
and
now
less
,
stars
now
brighter
and
now
dimmer
sustained
and
failing
.
And
the
glimmering
souls
passed
away
,
sustained
and
failing
,
merged
in
a
moving
breath
.
One
soul
was
lost
;
a
tiny
soul
:
his
.
It
flickered
once
and
went
out
,
forgotten
,
lost
.
The
end
:
black
,
cold
,
void
waste
.
Consciousness
of
place
came
ebbing
back
to
him
slowly
over
a
vast
tract
of
time
unlit
,
unfelt
,
unlived
.
The
squalid
scene
composed
itself
around
him
;
the
common
accents
,
the
burning
gas-jets
in
the
shops
,
odours
of
fish
and
spirits
and
wet
sawdust
,
moving
men
and
women
.
An
old
woman
was
about
to
cross
the
street
,
an
oilcan
in
her
hand
.
He
bent
down
and
asked
her
was
there
a
chapel
near
.
--
A
chapel
,
sir
?
Yes
,
sir
.
Church
Street
chapel
.
--
Church
?
She
shifted
the
can
to
her
other
hand
and
directed
him
;
and
,
as
she
held
out
her
reeking
withered
right
hand
under
its
fringe
of
shawl
,
he
bent
lower
towards
her
,
saddened
and
soothed
by
her
voice
.
--
Thank
you
.
--
You
are
quite
welcome
,
sir
.
The
candles
on
the
high
altar
had
been
extinguished
but
the
fragrance
of
incense
still
floated
down
the
dim
nave
.
Bearded
workmen
with
pious
faces
were
guiding
a
canopy
out
through
a
side
door
,
the
sacristan
aiding
them
with
quiet
gestures
and
words
.
A
few
of
the
faithful
still
lingered
praying
before
one
of
the
side-altars
or
kneeling
in
the
benches
near
the
confessionals
.
He
approached
timidly
and
knelt
at
the
last
bench
in
the
body
,
thankful
for
the
peace
and
silence
and
fragrant
shadow
of
the
church
.
The
board
on
which
he
knelt
was
narrow
and
worn
and
those
who
knelt
near
him
were
humble
followers
of
Jesus
.
Jesus
too
had
been
born
in
poverty
and
had
worked
in
the
shop
of
a
carpenter
,
cutting
boards
and
planing
them
,
and
had
first
spoken
of
the
kingdom
of
God
to
poor
fishermen
,
teaching
all
men
to
be
meek
and
humble
of
heart
.
He
bowed
his
head
upon
his
hands
,
bidding
his
heart
be
meek
and
humble
that
he
might
be
like
those
who
knelt
beside
him
and
his
prayer
as
acceptable
as
theirs
.
He
prayed
beside
them
but
it
was
hard
.
His
soul
was
foul
with
sin
and
he
dared
not
ask
forgiveness
with
the
simple
trust
of
those
whom
Jesus
,
in
the
mysterious
ways
of
God
,
had
called
first
to
His
side
,
the
carpenters
,
the
fishermen
,
poor
and
simple
people
following
a
lowly
trade
,
handling
and
shaping
the
wood
of
trees
,
mending
their
nets
with
patience
.
A
tall
figure
came
down
the
aisle
and
the
penitents
stirred
;
and
at
the
last
moment
,
glancing
up
swiftly
,
he
saw
a
long
grey
beard
and
the
brown
habit
of
a
capuchin
.
