Портрет художника в юности

           AskmeratherwouldIsufferotherstorobme,oriftheydid,wouldIcalldownuponthemwhatIbelieveiscalledthechastisementoftheseculararm?

           —Andwouldyou?

           —Ithink,Stephensaid,itwouldpainmeasmuchtodosoastoberobbed.

           —Isee,Cranlysaid.

           Heproducedhismatchandbegantocleanthecrevicebetweentwoteeth.Thenhesaidcarelessly:

           —Tellme,forexample,wouldyoudefloweravirgin?

           —Excuseme,Stephensaidpolitely,isthatnottheambitionofmostyounggentlemen?

           —Whatthenisyourpointofview?Cranlyasked.

           Hislastphrase,soursmellingasthesmokeofcharcoalanddisheartening,excitedStephen’sbrain,overwhichitsfumesseemedtobrood.

           —Lookhere,Cranly,hesaid.YouhaveaskedmewhatIwoulddoandwhatIwouldnotdo.IwilltellyouwhatIwilldoandwhatIwillnotdo.IwillnotservethatinwhichInolongerbelieve,whetheritcallitselfmyhome,myfatherland,ormychurch:andIwilltrytoexpressmyselfinsomemodeoflifeorartasfreelyasIcanandaswhollyasIcan,usingformydefencetheonlyarmsIallowmyselftouse—silence,exile,andcunning.

           CranlyseizedhisarmandsteeredhimroundsoastoleadhimbacktowardsLeesonPark.HelaughedalmostslylyandpressedStephen’sarmwithanelder’saffection.

           —Cunningindeed!hesaid.