Портрет художника в юності
Chapter 4
Latelysomeoftheirjudgementshadsoundedalittlechildishinhisearsandhadmadehimfeelaregretandpityasthoughhewereslowlypassingoutofanaccustomedworldandwerehearingitslanguageforthelasttime.Onedaywhensomeboyshadgatheredroundapriestundertheshednearthechapel,hehadheardthepriestsay:
—IbelievethatLordMacaulaywasamanwhoprobablynevercommittedamortalsininhislife,thatistosay,adeliberatemortalsin.
SomeoftheboyshadthenaskedthepriestifVictorHugowerenotthegreatestFrenchwriter.ThepriesthadansweredthatVictorHugohadneverwrittenhalfsowellwhenhehadturnedagainstthechurchashehadwrittenwhenhewasacatholic.
—ButtherearemanyeminentFrenchcritics,saidthepriest,whoconsiderthatevenVictorHugo,greatashecertainlywas,hadnotsopureaFrenchstyleasLouisVeuillot.
Thetinyflamewhichthepriest’sallusionhadkindleduponStephen’scheekhadsunkdownagainandhiseyeswerestillfixedcalmlyonthecolourlesssky.Butanunrestingdoubtflewhitherandthitherbeforehismind.Maskedmemoriespassedquicklybeforehim:herecognizedscenesandpersonsyethewasconsciousthathehadfailedtoperceivesomevitalcircumstanceinthem.HesawhimselfwalkingaboutthegroundswatchingthesportsinClongowesandeatingslimjimoutofhiscricketcap.Somejesuitswerewalkingroundthecycle-trackinthecompanyofladies.
