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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Портрет художника в юности
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- Стр. 13/241
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He
heard
the
voice
of
the
prefect
of
the
chapel
saying
the
last
prayers
.
He
prayed
it
too
against
the
dark
outside
under
the
trees
.
VISIT
,
WE
BESEECH
THEE
,
O
LORD
,
THIS
HABITATION
AND
DRIVE
AWAY
FROM
IT
ALL
THE
SNARES
OF
THE
ENEMY
.
MAY
THY
HOLY
ANGELS
DWELL
HEREIN
TO
PRESERVE
US
IN
PEACE
AND
MAY
THY
BLESSINGS
BE
ALWAYS
UPON
US
THROUGH
CHRIST
OUR
LORD
.
AMEN
.
His
fingers
trembled
as
he
undressed
himself
in
the
dormitory
.
He
told
his
fingers
to
hurry
up
.
He
had
to
undress
and
then
kneel
and
say
his
own
prayers
and
be
in
bed
before
the
gas
was
lowered
so
that
he
might
not
go
to
hell
when
he
died
.
He
rolled
his
stockings
off
and
put
on
his
nightshirt
quickly
and
knelt
trembling
at
his
bedside
and
repeated
his
prayers
quickly
,
fearing
that
the
gas
would
go
down
.
He
felt
his
shoulders
shaking
as
he
murmured
:
God
bless
my
father
and
my
mother
and
spare
them
to
me
!
God
bless
my
little
brothers
and
sisters
and
spare
them
to
me
!
God
bless
Dante
and
Uncle
Charles
and
spare
them
to
me
!
He
blessed
himself
and
climbed
quickly
into
bed
and
,
tucking
the
end
of
the
nightshirt
under
his
feet
,
curled
himself
together
under
the
cold
white
sheets
,
shaking
and
trembling
.
But
he
would
not
go
to
hell
when
he
died
;
and
the
shaking
would
stop
.
A
voice
bade
the
boys
in
the
dormitory
good
night
.
He
peered
out
for
an
instant
over
the
coverlet
and
saw
the
yellow
curtains
round
and
before
his
bed
that
shut
him
off
on
all
sides
.
The
light
was
lowered
quietly
.
The
prefect
's
shoes
went
away
.
Where
?
Down
the
staircase
and
along
the
corridors
or
to
his
room
at
the
end
?
He
saw
the
dark
.
Was
it
true
about
the
black
dog
that
walked
there
at
night
with
eyes
as
big
as
carriage-lamps
?
They
said
it
was
the
ghost
of
a
murderer
.
A
long
shiver
of
fear
flowed
over
his
body
.
He
saw
the
dark
entrance
hall
of
the
castle
.
Old
servants
in
old
dress
were
in
the
ironing-room
above
the
staircase
.
It
was
long
ago
.
The
old
servants
were
quiet
.
There
was
a
fire
there
,
but
the
hall
was
still
dark
.
A
figure
came
up
the
staircase
from
the
hall
.
He
wore
the
white
cloak
of
a
marshal
;
his
face
was
pale
and
strange
;
he
held
his
hand
pressed
to
his
side
.
He
looked
out
of
strange
eyes
at
the
old
servants
.
They
looked
at
him
and
saw
their
master
's
face
and
cloak
and
knew
that
he
had
received
his
death-wound
.
But
only
the
dark
was
where
they
looked
:
only
dark
silent
air
.
Their
master
had
received
his
death-wound
on
the
battlefield
of
Prague
far
away
over
the
sea
.
He
was
standing
on
the
field
;
his
hand
was
pressed
to
his
side
;
his
face
was
pale
and
strange
and
he
wore
the
white
cloak
of
a
marshal
.
O
how
cold
and
strange
it
was
to
think
of
that
!
All
the
dark
was
cold
and
strange
.
There
were
pale
strange
faces
there
,
great
eyes
like
carriage-lamps
.
They
were
the
ghosts
of
murderers
,
the
figures
of
marshals
who
had
received
their
death-wound
on
battlefields
far
away
over
the
sea
.
What
did
they
wish
to
say
that
their
faces
were
so
strange
?
