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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Портрет художника в юности
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- Стр. 92/241
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This
furious
music
allayed
his
dread
and
,
leaning
against
the
windowledge
,
he
let
his
eyelids
close
again
.
They
drove
in
a
jingle
across
Cork
while
it
was
still
early
morning
and
Stephen
finished
his
sleep
in
a
bedroom
of
the
Victoria
Hotel
.
The
bright
warm
sunlight
was
streaming
through
the
window
and
he
could
hear
the
din
of
traffic
.
His
father
was
standing
before
the
dressing-table
,
examining
his
hair
and
face
and
moustache
with
great
care
,
craning
his
neck
across
the
water-jug
and
drawing
it
back
sideways
to
see
the
better
.
While
he
did
so
he
sang
softly
to
himself
with
quaint
accent
and
phrasing
:
'
Tis
youth
and
folly
Makes
young
men
marry
,
So
here
,
my
love
,
I
'll
No
longer
stay
.
What
ca
n't
be
cured
,
sure
,
Must
be
injured
,
sure
,
So
I
'll
go
to
Amerikay
.
