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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Улисс
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- Стр. 533/821
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Meanwhile
the
skill
and
patience
of
the
physician
had
brought
about
a
happy
accouchement
.
It
had
been
a
weary
weary
while
both
for
patient
and
doctor
.
All
that
surgical
skill
could
do
was
done
and
the
brave
woman
had
manfully
helped
.
She
had
.
She
had
fought
the
good
fight
and
now
she
was
very
very
happy
.
Those
who
have
passed
on
,
who
have
gone
before
,
are
happy
too
as
they
gaze
down
and
smile
upon
the
touching
scene
.
Reverently
look
at
her
as
she
reclines
there
with
the
motherlight
in
her
eyes
,
that
longing
hunger
for
baby
fingers
(
a
pretty
sight
it
is
to
see
)
,
in
the
first
bloom
of
her
new
motherhood
,
breathing
a
silent
prayer
of
thanksgiving
to
One
above
,
the
Universal
Husband
.
And
as
her
loving
eyes
behold
her
babe
she
wishes
only
one
blessing
more
,
to
have
her
dear
Doady
there
with
her
to
share
her
joy
,
to
lay
in
his
arms
that
mite
of
God
’
s
clay
,
the
fruit
of
their
lawful
embraces
.
He
is
older
now
(
you
and
I
may
whisper
it
)
and
a
trifle
stooped
in
the
shoulders
yet
in
the
whirligig
of
years
a
grave
dignity
has
come
to
the
conscientious
second
accountant
of
the
Ulster
bank
,
College
Green
branch
.
O
Doady
,
loved
one
of
old
,
faithful
lifemate
now
,
it
may
never
be
again
,
that
faroff
time
of
the
roses
!
With
the
old
shake
of
her
pretty
head
she
recalls
those
days
.
God
!
How
beautiful
now
across
the
mist
of
years
!
But
their
children
are
grouped
in
her
imagination
about
the
bedside
,
hers
and
his
,
Charley
,
Mary
Alice
,
Frederick
Albert
(
if
he
had
lived
)
,
Mamy
,
Budgy
(
Victoria
Frances
)
,
Tom
,
Violet
Constance
Louisa
,
darling
little
Bobsy
(
called
after
our
famous
hero
of
the
South
African
war
,
lord
Bobs
of
Waterford
and
Candahar
)
and
now
this
last
pledge
of
their
union
,
a
Purefoy
if
ever
there
was
one
,
with
the
true
Purefoy
nose
.
Young
hopeful
will
be
christened
Mortimer
Edward
after
the
influential
third
cousin
of
Mr
Purefoy
in
the
Treasury
Remembrancer
’
s
office
,
Dublin
Castle
.
And
so
time
wags
on
:
but
father
Cronion
has
dealt
lightly
here
.
No
,
let
no
sigh
break
from
that
bosom
,
dear
gentle
Mina
.
And
Doady
,
knock
the
ashes
from
your
pipe
,
the
seasoned
briar
you
still
fancy
when
the
curfew
rings
for
you
(
may
it
be
the
distant
day
!
)
and
dout
the
light
whereby
you
read
in
the
Sacred
Book
for
the
oil
too
has
run
low
,
and
so
with
a
tranquil
heart
to
bed
,
to
rest
.
He
knows
and
will
call
in
His
own
good
time
.
You
too
have
fought
the
good
fight
and
played
loyally
your
man
’
s
part
.
Sir
,
to
you
my
hand
.
Well
done
,
thou
good
and
faithful
servant
!
There
are
sins
or
(
let
us
call
them
as
the
world
calls
them
)
evil
memories
which
are
hidden
away
by
man
in
the
darkest
places
of
the
heart
but
they
abide
there
and
wait
.
He
may
suffer
their
memory
to
grow
dim
,
let
them
be
as
though
they
had
not
been
and
all
but
persuade
himself
that
they
were
not
or
at
least
were
otherwise
.
Yet
a
chance
word
will
call
them
forth
suddenly
and
they
will
rise
up
to
confront
him
in
the
most
various
circumstances
,
a
vision
or
a
dream
,
or
while
timbrel
and
harp
soothe
his
senses
or
amid
the
cool
silver
tranquility
of
the
evening
or
at
the
feast
,
at
midnight
,
when
he
is
now
filled
with
wine
.
Not
to
insult
over
him
will
the
vision
come
as
over
one
that
lies
under
her
wrath
,
not
for
vengeance
to
cut
him
off
from
the
living
but
shrouded
in
the
piteous
vesture
of
the
past
,
silent
,
remote
,
reproachful
.
The
stranger
still
regarded
on
the
face
before
him
a
slow
recession
of
that
false
calm
there
,
imposed
,
as
it
seemed
,
by
habit
or
some
studied
trick
,
upon
words
so
embittered
as
to
accuse
in
their
speaker
an
unhealthiness
,
a
flair
,
for
the
cruder
things
of
life
.
A
scene
disengages
itself
in
the
observer
’
s
memory
,
evoked
,
it
would
seem
,
by
a
word
of
so
natural
a
homeliness
as
if
those
days
were
really
present
there
(
as
some
thought
)
with
their
immediate
pleasures
.
A
shaven
space
of
lawn
one
soft
May
evening
,
the
wellremembered
grove
of
lilacs
at
Roundtown
,
purple
and
white
,
fragrant
slender
spectators
of
the
game
but
with
much
real
interest
in
the
pellets
as
they
run
slowly
forward
over
the
sward
or
collide
and
stop
,
one
by
its
fellow
,
with
a
brief
alert
shock
.
And
yonder
about
that
grey
urn
where
the
water
moves
at
times
in
thoughtful
irrigation
you
saw
another
as
fragrant
sisterhood
,
Floey
,
Atty
,
Tiny
and
their
darker
friend
with
I
know
not
what
of
arresting
in
her
pose
then
,
Our
Lady
of
the
Cherries
,
a
comely
brace
of
them
pendent
from
an
ear
,
bringing
out
the
foreign
warmth
of
the
skin
so
daintily
against
the
cool
ardent
fruit
.
A
lad
of
four
or
five
in
linseywoolsey
(
blossomtime
but
there
will
be
cheer
in
the
kindly
hearth
when
ere
long
the
bowls
are
gathered
and
hutched
)
is
standing
on
the
urn
secured
by
that
circle
of
girlish
fond
hands
.
He
frowns
a
little
just
as
this
young
man
does
now
with
a
perhaps
too
conscious
enjoyment
of
the
danger
but
must
needs
glance
at
whiles
towards
where
his
mother
watches
from
the
piazzetta
giving
upon
the
flowerclose
with
a
faint
shadow
of
remoteness
or
of
reproach
(
alles
Vergängliche
)
in
her
glad
look
.
Mark
this
farther
and
remember
.
The
end
comes
suddenly
.
Enter
that
antechamber
of
birth
where
the
studious
are
assembled
and
note
their
faces
.
Nothing
,
as
it
seems
,
there
of
rash
or
violent
.
Quietude
of
custody
,
rather
,
befitting
their
station
in
that
house
,
the
vigilant
watch
of
shepherds
and
of
angels
about
a
crib
in
Bethlehem
of
Juda
long
ago
.
But
as
before
the
lightning
the
serried
stormclouds
,
heavy
with
preponderant
excess
of
moisture
,
in
swollen
masses
turgidly
distended
,
compass
earth
and
sky
in
one
vast
slumber
,
impending
above
parched
field
and
drowsy
oxen
and
blighted
growth
of
shrub
and
verdure
till
in
an
instant
a
flash
rives
their
centres
and
with
the
reverberation
of
the
thunder
the
cloudburst
pours
its
torrent
,
so
and
not
otherwise
was
the
transformation
,
violent
and
instantaneous
,
upon
the
utterance
of
the
word
.
Burke
’
s
!
outflings
my
lord
Stephen
,
giving
the
cry
,
and
a
tag
and
bobtail
of
all
them
after
,
cockerel
,
jackanapes
,
welsher
,
pilldoctor
,
punctual
Bloom
at
heels
with
a
universal
grabbing
at
headgear
,
ashplants
,
bilbos
,
Panama
hats
and
scabbards
,
Zermatt
alpenstocks
and
what
not
.
A
dedale
of
lusty
youth
,
noble
every
student
there
.
Nurse
Callan
taken
aback
in
the
hallway
cannot
stay
them
nor
smiling
surgeon
coming
downstairs
with
news
of
placentation
ended
,
a
full
pound
if
a
milligramme
.
They
hark
him
on
.
The
door
!
It
is
open
?
Ha
!
They
are
out
,
tumultuously
,
off
for
a
minute
’
s
race
,
all
bravely
legging
it
,
Burke
’
s
of
Denzille
and
Holles
their
ulterior
goal
.
Dixon
follows
giving
them
sharp
language
but
raps
out
an
oath
,
he
too
,
and
on
.
Bloom
stays
with
nurse
a
thought
to
send
a
kind
word
to
happy
mother
and
nurseling
up
there
.
Doctor
Diet
and
Doctor
Quiet
.
Looks
she
too
not
other
now
?
Ward
of
watching
in
Horne
’
s
house
has
told
its
tale
in
that
washedout
pallor
.
Then
all
being
gone
,
a
glance
of
motherwit
helping
,
he
whispers
close
in
going
:
Madam
,
when
comes
the
storkbird
for
thee
?
