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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 303/821
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Maeterlinck
says
:
If
Socrates
leave
his
house
today
he
will
find
the
sage
seated
on
his
doorstep
.
If
Judas
go
forth
tonight
it
is
to
Judas
his
steps
will
tend
.
Every
life
is
many
days
,
day
after
day
.
We
walk
through
ourselves
,
meeting
robbers
,
ghosts
,
giants
,
old
men
,
young
men
,
wives
,
widows
,
brothers
-
in
-
love
,
but
always
meeting
ourselves
.
The
playwright
who
wrote
the
folio
of
this
world
and
wrote
it
badly
(
He
gave
us
light
first
and
the
sun
two
days
later
)
,
the
lord
of
things
as
they
are
whom
the
most
Roman
of
catholics
call
dio
boia
,
hangman
god
,
is
doubtless
all
in
all
in
all
of
us
,
ostler
and
butcher
,
and
would
be
bawd
and
cuckold
too
but
that
in
the
economy
of
heaven
,
foretold
by
Hamlet
,
there
are
no
more
marriages
,
glorified
man
,
an
androgynous
angel
,
being
a
wife
unto
himself
.
—
Eureka
!
Buck
Mulligan
cried
.
Eureka
!
Suddenly
happied
he
jumped
up
and
reached
in
a
stride
John
Eglinton
’
s
desk
.
—
May
I
?
he
said
.
The
Lord
has
spoken
to
Malachi
.
He
began
to
scribble
on
a
slip
of
paper
.
Take
some
slips
from
the
counter
going
out
.
—
Those
who
are
married
,
Mr
Best
,
douce
herald
,
said
,
all
save
one
,
shall
live
.
The
rest
shall
keep
as
they
are
.
He
laughed
,
unmarried
,
at
Eglinton
Johannes
,
of
arts
a
bachelor
.
Unwed
,
unfancied
,
ware
of
wiles
,
they
fingerponder
nightly
each
his
variorum
edition
of
The
Taming
of
the
Shrew
.
—
You
are
a
delusion
,
said
roundly
John
Eglinton
to
Stephen
.
You
have
brought
us
all
this
way
to
show
us
a
French
triangle
.
Do
you
believe
your
own
theory
?
