Портрет художника в юності

           Fromanotherwindowopentotheaircamethesoundofapiano,scaleafterscalerisingintothetreble.

           Stephenwalkedonathisfather’sside,listeningtostorieshehadheardbefore,hearingagainthenamesofthescatteredanddeadrevellerswhohadbeenthecompanionsofhisfather’syouth.Andafaintsicknesssighedinhisheart.

           HerecalledhisownequivocalpositioninBelvedere,afreeboy,aleaderafraidofhisownauthority,proudandsensitiveandsuspicious,battlingagainstthesqualorofhislifeandagainsttheriotofhismind.Theletterscutinthestainedwoodofthedeskstareduponhim,mockinghisbodilyweaknessandfutileenthusiasmsandmakinghimloathehimselfforhisownmadandfilthyorgies.Thespittleinhisthroatgrewbitterandfoultoswallowandthefaintsicknessclimbedtohisbrainsothatforamomentheclosedhiseyesandwalkedonindarkness.

           Hecouldstillhearhisfather’svoice—

           —Whenyoukickoutforyourself,Stephen—asIdaresayyouwilloneofthesedays—remember,whateveryoudo,tomixwithgentlemen.WhenIwasayoungfellowItellyouIenjoyedmyself.Imixedwithfinedecentfellows.Everyoneofuscouldlosomething.Onefellowhadagoodvoice,anotherfellowwasagoodactor,anothercouldsingagoodcomicsong,anotherwasagoodoarsmanoragoodracketplayer,anothercouldtellagoodstoryandsoon.