Портрет художника в юності
Chapter 2
EithertheywenttothelefttowardstheDublinmountainsoralongtheGoatstownroadandthenceintoDundrum,cominghomebySandyford.Trudgingalongtheroadorstandinginsomegrimywaysidepublichousehiseldersspokeconstantlyofthesubjectsnearertheirhearts,ofIrishpolitics,ofMunsterandofthelegendsoftheirownfamily,toallofwhichStephenlentanavidear.Wordswhichhedidnotunderstandhesaidoverandovertohimselftillhehadlearntthembyheart:andthroughthemhehadglimpsesoftherealworldaboutthem.Thehourwhenhetoowouldtakepartinthelifeofthatworldseemeddrawingnearandinsecrethebegantomakereadyforthegreatpartwhichhefeltawaitedhimthenatureofwhichheonlydimlyapprehended.
Hiseveningswerehisown;andheporedoveraraggedtranslationofTHECOUNTOFMONTECRISTO.Thefigureofthatdarkavengerstoodforthinhismindforwhateverhehadheardordivinedinchildhoodofthestrangeandterrible.Atnighthebuiltupontheparlourtableanimageofthewonderfulislandcaveoutoftransfersandpaperflowersandcolouredtissuepaperandstripsofthesilverandgoldenpaperinwhichchocolateiswrapped.Whenhehadbrokenupthisscenery,wearyofitstinsel,therewouldcometohismindthebrightpictureofMarseille,ofsunnytrellises,andofMercedes.
OutsideBlackrock,ontheroadthatledtothemountains,stoodasmallwhitewashedhouseinthegardenofwhichgrewmanyrosebushes:andinthishouse,hetoldhimself,anotherMercedeslived.
