Портрет художника в юності
Chapter 3
AtallboybehindStephenrubbedhishandsandsaid:
—That’sgameball.Wecanscutthewholehour.Hewon’tbeintillafterhalftwo.Thenyoucanaskhimquestionsonthecatechism,Dedalus.
Stephen,leaningbackanddrawingidlyonhisscribbler,listenedtothetalkabouthimwhichHeroncheckedfromtimetotimebysaying:
—Shutup,willyou.Don’tmakesuchaballyracket!
Itwasstrangetoothathefoundanaridpleasureinfollowinguptotheendtherigidlinesofthedoctrinesofthechurchandpenetratingintoobscuresilencesonlytohearandfeelthemoredeeplyhisowncondemnation.ThesentenceofsaintJameswhichsaysthathewhooffendsagainstonecommandmentbecomesguiltyofall,hadseemedtohimfirstaswollenphraseuntilhehadbeguntogropeinthedarknessofhisownstate.Fromtheevilseedoflustallotherdeadlysinshadsprungforth:prideinhimselfandcontemptofothers,covetousnessInusingmoneyforthepurchaseofunlawfulpleasures,envyofthosewhoseviceshecouldnotreachtoandcalumniousmurmuringagainstthepious,gluttonousenjoymentoffood,thedullgloweringangeramidwhichhebroodeduponhislonging,theswampofspiritualandbodilyslothinwhichhiswholebeinghadsunk.
Ashesatinhisbenchgazingcalmlyattherector’sshrewdharshface,hismindwounditselfinandoutofthecuriousquestionsproposedtoit.
