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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 7/821
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—
Look
at
yourself
,
he
said
,
you
dreadful
bard
!
Stephen
bent
forward
and
peered
at
the
mirror
held
out
to
him
,
cleft
by
a
crooked
crack
.
Hair
on
end
.
As
he
and
others
see
me
.
Who
chose
this
face
for
me
?
This
dogsbody
to
rid
of
vermin
.
It
asks
me
too
.
—
I
pinched
it
out
of
the
skivvy
’
s
room
,
Buck
Mulligan
said
.
It
does
her
all
right
.
The
aunt
always
keeps
plainlooking
servants
for
Malachi
.
Lead
him
not
into
temptation
.
And
her
name
is
Ursula
.
Laughing
again
,
he
brought
the
mirror
away
from
Stephen
’
s
peering
eyes
.
—
The
rage
of
Caliban
at
not
seeing
his
face
in
a
mirror
,
he
said
.
If
Wilde
were
only
alive
to
see
you
!
Drawing
back
and
pointing
,
Stephen
said
with
bitterness
:
—
It
is
a
symbol
of
Irish
art
.
The
cracked
lookingglass
of
a
servant
.
Buck
Mulligan
suddenly
linked
his
arm
in
Stephen
’
s
and
walked
with
him
round
the
tower
,
his
razor
and
mirror
clacking
in
the
pocket
where
he
had
thrust
them
.
—
It
’
s
not
fair
to
tease
you
like
that
,
Kinch
,
is
it
?
he
said
kindly
.
God
knows
you
have
more
spirit
than
any
of
them
.
