Портрет художника в юності
Chapter 4
Hissoulwasnottheretohearandgreetitandheknewnowthattheexhortationhehadlistenedtohadalreadyfallenintoanidleformaltale.Hewouldneverswingthethuriblebeforethetabernacleaspriest.Hisdestinywastobeelusiveofsocialorreligiousorders.Thewisdomofthepriest’sappealdidnottouchhimtothequick.Hewasdestinedtolearnhisownwisdomapartfromothersortolearnthewisdomofothershimselfwanderingamongthesnaresoftheworld.
Thesnaresoftheworldwereitswaysofsin.Hewouldfall.Hehadnotyetfallenbuthewouldfallsilently,inaninstant.Nottofallwastoohard,toohard;andhefeltthesilentlapseofhissoul,asitwouldbeatsomeinstanttocome,falling,falling,butnotyetfallen,stillunfallen,butabouttofall.
HecrossedthebridgeoverthestreamoftheTolkaandturnedhiseyescoldlyforaninstanttowardsthefadedblueshrineoftheBlessedVirginwhichstoodfowl-wiseonapoleinthemiddleofaham-shapedencampmentofpoorcottages.Then,bendingtotheleft,hefollowedthelanewhichleduptohishouse.Thefaintdourstinkofrottedcabbagescametowardshimfromthekitchengardensontherisinggroundabovetheriver.Hesmiledtothinkthatitwasthisdisorder,themisruleandconfusionofhisfather’shouseandthestagnationofvegetablelife,whichwastowinthedayinhissoul.
