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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 183/821
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The
professor
grinned
,
locking
his
long
lips
.
—
Eh
?
You
bloody
old
Roman
empire
?
Myles
Crawford
said
.
He
took
a
cigarette
from
the
open
case
.
Lenehan
,
lighting
it
for
him
with
quick
grace
,
said
:
—
Silence
for
my
brandnew
riddle
!
—
Imperium
romanum
,
J
.
J
.
O
’
Molloy
said
gently
.
It
sounds
nobler
than
British
or
Brixton
.
The
word
reminds
one
somehow
of
fat
in
the
fire
.
Myles
Crawford
blew
his
first
puff
violently
towards
the
ceiling
.
—
That
’
s
it
,
he
said
.
We
are
the
fat
.
You
and
I
are
the
fat
in
the
fire
.
We
haven
’
t
got
the
chance
of
a
snowball
in
hell
.
THE
GRANDEUR
THAT
WAS
ROME
—
Wait
a
moment
,
professor
MacHugh
said
,
raising
two
quiet
claws
.
We
mustn
’
t
be
led
away
by
words
,
by
sounds
of
words
.
We
think
of
Rome
,
imperial
,
imperious
,
imperative
.
He
extended
elocutionary
arms
from
frayed
stained
shirtcuffs
,
pausing
:
