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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 275/821
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They
are
still
.
Once
quick
in
the
brains
of
men
.
Still
:
but
an
itch
of
death
is
in
them
,
to
tell
me
in
my
ear
a
maudlin
tale
,
urge
me
to
wreak
their
will
.
—
Certainly
,
John
Eglinton
mused
,
of
all
great
men
he
is
the
most
enigmatic
.
We
know
nothing
but
that
he
lived
and
suffered
.
Not
even
so
much
.
Others
abide
our
question
.
A
shadow
hangs
over
all
the
rest
.
—
But
Hamlet
is
so
personal
,
isn
’
t
it
?
Mr
Best
pleaded
.
I
mean
,
a
kind
of
private
paper
,
don
’
t
you
know
,
of
his
private
life
.
I
mean
,
I
don
’
t
care
a
button
,
don
’
t
you
know
,
who
is
killed
or
who
is
guilty
.
.
.
He
rested
an
innocent
book
on
the
edge
of
the
desk
,
smiling
his
defiance
.
His
private
papers
in
the
original
.
Ta
an
bad
ar
an
tir
.
Taim
in
mo
shagart
.
Put
beurla
on
it
,
littlejohn
.
Quoth
littlejohn
Eglinton
:
—
I
was
prepared
for
paradoxes
from
what
Malachi
Mulligan
told
us
but
I
may
as
well
warn
you
that
if
you
want
to
shake
my
belief
that
Shakespeare
is
Hamlet
you
have
a
stern
task
before
you
.
Bear
with
me
.
Stephen
withstood
the
bane
of
miscreant
eyes
glinting
stern
under
wrinkled
brows
.
A
basilisk
.
E
quando
vede
l
’
uomo
l
’
attosca
.
Messer
Brunetto
,
I
thank
thee
for
the
word
.
—
As
we
,
or
mother
Dana
,
weave
and
unweave
our
bodies
,
Stephen
said
,
from
day
to
day
,
their
molecules
shuttled
to
and
fro
,
so
does
the
artist
weave
and
unweave
his
image
.
And
as
the
mole
on
my
right
breast
is
where
it
was
when
I
was
born
,
though
all
my
body
has
been
woven
of
new
stuff
time
after
time
,
so
through
the
ghost
of
the
unquiet
father
the
image
of
the
unliving
son
looks
forth
.
In
the
intense
instant
of
imagination
,
when
the
mind
,
Shelley
says
,
is
a
fading
coal
,
that
which
I
was
is
that
which
I
am
and
that
which
in
possibility
I
may
come
to
be
.
So
in
the
future
,
the
sister
of
the
past
,
I
may
see
myself
as
I
sit
here
now
but
by
reflection
from
that
which
then
I
shall
be
.
