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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 278/821
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—
Marina
,
Stephen
said
,
a
child
of
storm
,
Miranda
,
a
wonder
,
Perdita
,
that
which
was
lost
.
What
was
lost
is
given
back
to
him
:
his
daughter
’
s
child
.
My
dearest
wife
,
Pericles
says
,
was
like
this
maid
.
Will
any
man
love
the
daughter
if
he
has
not
loved
the
mother
?
—
The
art
of
being
a
grandfather
,
Mr
Best
gan
murmur
.
L
’
art
d
’
être
grand
.
.
.
—
Will
he
not
see
reborn
in
her
,
with
the
memory
of
his
own
youth
added
,
another
image
?
Do
you
know
what
you
are
talking
about
?
Love
,
yes
.
Word
known
to
all
men
.
Amor
vero
aliquid
alicui
bonum
vult
unde
et
ea
quae
concupiscimus
.
.
.
—
His
own
image
to
a
man
with
that
queer
thing
genius
is
the
standard
of
all
experience
,
material
and
moral
.
Such
an
appeal
will
touch
him
.
The
images
of
other
males
of
his
blood
will
repel
him
.
He
will
see
in
them
grotesque
attempts
of
nature
to
foretell
or
to
repeat
himself
.
The
benign
forehead
of
the
quaker
librarian
enkindled
rosily
with
hope
.
—
I
hope
Mr
Dedalus
will
work
out
his
theory
for
the
enlightenment
of
the
public
.
And
we
ought
to
mention
another
Irish
commentator
,
Mr
George
Bernard
Shaw
.
Nor
should
we
forget
Mr
Frank
Harris
.
His
articles
on
Shakespeare
in
the
Saturday
Review
were
surely
brilliant
.
Oddly
enough
he
too
draws
for
us
an
unhappy
relation
with
the
dark
lady
of
the
sonnets
.
The
favoured
rival
is
William
Herbert
,
earl
of
Pembroke
.
I
own
that
if
the
poet
must
be
rejected
such
a
rejection
would
seem
more
in
harmony
with
—
what
shall
I
say
?
—
our
notions
of
what
ought
not
to
have
been
.
Felicitously
he
ceased
and
held
a
meek
head
among
them
,
auk
’
s
egg
,
prize
of
their
fray
.
He
thous
and
thees
her
with
grave
husbandwords
.
Dost
love
,
Miriam
?
Dost
love
thy
man
?
