Дублинцы
The Dead
Shewasfastasleep.
Gabriel,leaningonhiselbow,lookedforafewmomentsunresentfullyonhertangledhairandhalf-openmouth,listeningtoherdeep-drawnbreath.Soshehadhadthatromanceinherlife:amanhaddiedforhersake.Ithardlypainedhimnowtothinkhowpooraparthe,herhusband,hadplayedinherlife.Hewatchedherwhilesheslept,asthoughheandshehadneverlivedtogetherasmanandwife.Hiscuriouseyesrestedlonguponherfaceandonherhair:and,ashethoughtofwhatshemusthavebeenthen,inthattimeofherfirstgirlishbeauty,astrange,friendlypityforherenteredhissoul.Hedidnotliketosayeventohimselfthatherfacewasnolongerbeautiful,butheknewthatitwasnolongerthefaceforwhichMichaelFureyhadbraveddeath.
Perhapsshehadnottoldhimallthestory.Hiseyesmovedtothechairoverwhichshehadthrownsomeofherclothes.Apetticoatstringdangledtothefloor.Onebootstoodupright,itslimpupperfallendown:thefellowofitlayuponitsside.Hewonderedathisriotofemotionsofanhourbefore.Fromwhathaditproceeded?Fromhisaunt’ssupper,fromhisownfoolishspeech,fromthewineanddancing,themerry-makingwhensayinggood-nightinthehall,thepleasureofthewalkalongtheriverinthesnow.PoorAuntJulia!She,too,wouldsoonbeashadewiththeshadeofPatrickMorkanandhishorse.HehadcaughtthathaggardlookuponherfaceforamomentwhenshewassingingArrayedfortheBridal.