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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 57/821
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Stephen
seated
himself
noiselessly
before
the
princely
presence
.
Framed
around
the
walls
images
of
vanished
horses
stood
in
homage
,
their
meek
heads
poised
in
air
:
lord
Hastings
’
Repulse
,
the
duke
of
Westminster
’
s
Shotover
,
the
duke
of
Beaufort
’
s
Ceylon
,
prix
de
Paris
,
1866
.
Elfin
riders
sat
them
,
watchful
of
a
sign
.
He
saw
their
speeds
,
backing
king
’
s
colours
,
and
shouted
with
the
shouts
of
vanished
crowds
.
—
Full
stop
,
Mr
Deasy
bade
his
keys
.
But
prompt
ventilation
of
this
allimportant
question
.
.
.
Where
Cranly
led
me
to
get
rich
quick
,
hunting
his
winners
among
the
mudsplashed
brakes
,
amid
the
bawls
of
bookies
on
their
pitches
and
reek
of
the
canteen
,
over
the
motley
slush
.
Even
money
Fair
Rebel
.
Ten
to
one
the
field
.
Dicers
and
thimbleriggers
we
hurried
by
after
the
hoofs
,
the
vying
caps
and
jackets
and
past
the
meatfaced
woman
,
a
butcher
’
s
dame
,
nuzzling
thirstily
her
clove
of
orange
.
Shouts
rang
shrill
from
the
boys
’
playfield
and
a
whirring
whistle
.
Again
:
a
goal
.
I
am
among
them
,
among
their
battling
bodies
in
a
medley
,
the
joust
of
life
.
You
mean
that
knockkneed
mother
’
s
darling
who
seems
to
be
slightly
crawsick
?
Jousts
.
Time
shocked
rebounds
,
shock
by
shock
.
Jousts
,
slush
and
uproar
of
battles
,
the
frozen
deathspew
of
the
slain
,
a
shout
of
spearspikes
baited
with
men
’
s
bloodied
guts
.
—
Now
then
,
Mr
Deasy
said
,
rising
.
He
came
to
the
table
,
pinning
together
his
sheets
.
Stephen
stood
up
.
—
I
have
put
the
matter
into
a
nutshell
,
Mr
Deasy
said
.
It
’
s
about
the
foot
and
mouth
disease
.
Just
look
through
it
.
There
can
be
no
two
opinions
on
the
matter
.
May
I
trespass
on
your
valuable
space
.
That
doctrine
of
laissez
faire
which
so
often
in
our
history
.
Our
cattle
trade
.
The
way
of
all
our
old
industries
.
Liverpool
ring
which
jockeyed
the
Galway
harbour
scheme
.
European
conflagration
.
Grain
supplies
through
the
narrow
waters
of
the
channel
.
The
pluterperfect
imperturbability
of
the
department
of
agriculture
.
Pardoned
a
classical
allusion
.
Cassandra
.
By
a
woman
who
was
no
better
than
she
should
be
.
To
come
to
the
point
at
issue
.
—
I
don
’
t
mince
words
,
do
I
?
Mr
Deasy
asked
as
Stephen
read
on
.
