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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Улисс
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- Стр. 640/821
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BLOOM
:
(
Pigeonbreasted
,
bottleshouldered
,
padded
,
in
nondescript
juvenile
grey
and
black
striped
suit
,
too
small
for
him
,
white
tennis
shoes
,
bordered
stockings
with
turnover
tops
and
a
red
schoolcap
with
badge
.
)
I
was
in
my
teens
,
a
growing
boy
.
A
little
then
sufficed
,
a
jolting
car
,
the
mingling
odours
of
the
ladies
’
cloakroom
and
lavatory
,
the
throng
penned
tight
on
the
old
Royal
stairs
(
for
they
love
crushes
,
instinct
of
the
herd
,
and
the
dark
sexsmelling
theatre
unbridles
vice
)
,
even
a
pricelist
of
their
hosiery
.
And
then
the
heat
.
There
were
sunspots
that
summer
.
End
of
school
.
And
tipsycake
.
Halcyon
days
.
(
Halcyon
days
,
high
school
boys
in
blue
and
white
football
jerseys
and
shorts
,
Master
Donald
Turnbull
,
Master
Abraham
Chatterton
,
Master
Owen
Goldberg
,
Master
Jack
Meredith
,
Master
Percy
Apjohn
,
stand
in
a
clearing
of
the
trees
and
shout
to
Master
Leopold
Bloom
.
)
THE
HALCYON
DAYS
:
Mackerel
!
Live
us
again
.
Hurray
!
(
They
cheer
.
)
BLOOM
:
(
Hobbledehoy
,
warmgloved
,
mammamufflered
,
starred
with
spent
snowballs
,
struggles
to
rise
.
)
Again
!
I
feel
sixteen
!
What
a
lark
!
Let
’
s
ring
all
the
bells
in
Montague
street
.
(
He
cheers
feebly
.
)
Hurray
for
the
High
School
!
THE
ECHO
:
Fool
!
THE
YEWS
:
(
Rustling
.
)
She
is
right
,
our
sister
.
Whisper
.
(
Whispered
kisses
are
heard
in
all
the
wood
.
Faces
of
hamadryads
peep
out
from
the
boles
and
among
the
leaves
and
break
,
blossoming
into
bloom
.
)
Who
profaned
our
silent
shade
?
THE
NYMPH
:
(
Coyly
,
through
parting
fingers
.
)
There
?
In
the
open
air
?
THE
YEWS
:
(
Sweeping
downward
.
)
Sister
,
yes
.
And
on
our
virgin
sward
.
THE
WATERFALL
:
