Портрет художника в юності
Chapter 5
ButIamcurioustoknowareyoutryingtomakeaconvertofmeorapervertofyourself?
Heturnedtowardshisfriend’sfaceandsawtherearawsmilewhichsomeforceofwillstrovetomakefinelysignificant.
Cranlyaskedsuddenlyinaplainsensibletone:
—Tellmethetruth.WereyouatallshockedbywhatIsaid?
—Somewhat,Stephensaid.
—Andwhywereyoushocked,Cranlypressedoninthesametone,ifyoufeelsurethatourreligionisfalseandthatJesuswasnotthesonofGod?
—Iamnotatallsureofit,Stephensaid.HeismorelikeasonofGodthanasonofMary.
—Andisthatwhyyouwillnotcommunicate,Cranlyasked,becauseyouarenotsureofthattoo,becauseyoufeelthatthehost,too,maybethebodyandbloodofthesonofGodandnotawaferofbread?Andbecauseyoufearthatitmaybe?
—Yes,Stephensaidquietly,IfeelthatandIalsofearit.
—Isee,Cranlysaid.
Stephen,struckbyhistoneofclosure,reopenedthediscussionatoncebysaying:
—Ifearmanythings:dogs,horses,fire-arms,thesea,thunder-storms,machinery,thecountryroadsatnight.
—Butwhydoyoufearabitofbread?
—Iimagine,Stephensaid,thatthereisamalevolentrealitybehindthosethingsIsayIfear.
