Портрет художника в юності
Chapter 5
—Doyoufearthen,Cranlyasked,thattheGodoftheRomancatholicswouldstrikeyoudeadanddamnyouifyoumadeasacrilegiouscommunion?
—TheGodoftheRomancatholicscoulddothatnow,Stephensaid.Ifearmorethanthatthechemicalactionwhichwouldbesetupinmysoulbyafalsehomagetoasymbolbehindwhicharemassedtwentycenturiesofauthorityandveneration.
—Wouldyou,Cranlyasked,inextremedanger,committhatparticularsacrilege?Forinstance,ifyoulivedinthepenaldays?
—Icannotanswerforthepast,Stephenreplied.Possiblynot.
—Then,saidCranly,youdonotintendtobecomeaprotestant?
—IsaidthatIhadlostthefaith,Stephenanswered,butnotthatIhadlostself-respect.Whatkindofliberationwouldthatbetoforsakeanabsurditywhichislogicalandcoherentandtoembraceonewhichisillogicalandincoherent?
TheyhadwalkedontowardsthetownshipofPembrokeandnow,astheywentonslowlyalongtheavenues,thetreesandthescatteredlightsinthevillassoothedtheirminds.Theairofwealthandreposediffusedaboutthemseemedtocomforttheirneediness.Behindahedgeoflaurelalightglimmeredinthewindowofakitchenandthevoiceofaservantwasheardsingingasshesharpenedknives.Shesang,inshortbrokenbars:
RosieO’Grady.
Cranlystoppedtolisten,saying:
—MULIERCANTAT.
