-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джеймс Джойс
-
- Улисс
-
- Стр. 279/821
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
—
That
may
be
too
,
Stephen
said
.
There
’
s
a
saying
of
Goethe
’
s
which
Mr
Magee
likes
to
quote
.
Beware
of
what
you
wish
for
in
youth
because
you
will
get
it
in
middle
life
.
Why
does
he
send
to
one
who
is
a
buonaroba
,
a
bay
where
all
men
ride
,
a
maid
of
honour
with
a
scandalous
girlhood
,
a
lordling
to
woo
for
him
?
He
was
himself
a
lord
of
language
and
had
made
himself
a
coistrel
gentleman
and
he
had
written
Romeo
and
Juliet
.
Why
?
Belief
in
himself
has
been
untimely
killed
.
He
was
overborne
in
a
cornfield
first
(
ryefield
,
I
should
say
)
and
he
will
never
be
a
victor
in
his
own
eyes
after
nor
play
victoriously
the
game
of
laugh
and
lie
down
.
Assumed
dongiovannism
will
not
save
him
.
No
later
undoing
will
undo
the
first
undoing
.
The
tusk
of
the
boar
has
wounded
him
there
where
love
lies
ableeding
.
If
the
shrew
is
worsted
yet
there
remains
to
her
woman
’
s
invisible
weapon
.
There
is
,
I
feel
in
the
words
,
some
goad
of
the
flesh
driving
him
into
a
new
passion
,
a
darker
shadow
of
the
first
,
darkening
even
his
own
understanding
of
himself
.
A
like
fate
awaits
him
and
the
two
rages
commingle
in
a
whirlpool
.
They
list
.
And
in
the
porches
of
their
ears
I
pour
.
—
The
soul
has
been
before
stricken
mortally
,
a
poison
poured
in
the
porch
of
a
sleeping
ear
.
But
those
who
are
done
to
death
in
sleep
cannot
know
the
manner
of
their
quell
unless
their
Creator
endow
their
souls
with
that
knowledge
in
the
life
to
come
.
The
poisoning
and
the
beast
with
two
backs
that
urged
it
King
Hamlet
’
s
ghost
could
not
know
of
were
he
not
endowed
with
knowledge
by
his
creator
.
That
is
why
the
speech
(
his
lean
unlovely
English
)
is
always
turned
elsewhere
,
backward
.
Ravisher
and
ravished
,
what
he
would
but
would
not
,
go
with
him
from
Lucrece
’
s
bluecircled
ivory
globes
to
Imogen
’
s
breast
,
bare
,
with
its
mole
cinquespotted
.
He
goes
back
,
weary
of
the
creation
he
has
piled
up
to
hide
him
from
himself
,
an
old
dog
licking
an
old
sore
.
But
,
because
loss
is
his
gain
,
he
passes
on
towards
eternity
in
undiminished
personality
,
untaught
by
the
wisdom
he
has
written
or
by
the
laws
he
has
revealed
.
His
beaver
is
up
.
He
is
a
ghost
,
a
shadow
now
,
the
wind
by
Elsinore
’
s
rocks
or
what
you
will
,
the
sea
’
s
voice
,
a
voice
heard
only
in
the
heart
of
him
who
is
the
substance
of
his
shadow
,
the
son
consubstantial
with
the
father
.
—
Amen
!
was
responded
from
the
doorway
.
Hast
thou
found
me
,
O
mine
enemy
?
Entr
’
acte
.
A
ribald
face
,
sullen
as
a
dean
’
s
,
Buck
Mulligan
came
forward
,
then
blithe
in
motley
,
towards
the
greeting
of
their
smiles
.
My
telegram
.
—
You
were
speaking
of
the
gaseous
vertebrate
,
if
I
mistake
not
?
he
asked
of
Stephen
.
Primrosevested
he
greeted
gaily
with
his
doffed
Panama
as
with
a
bauble
.
