
[4659] But for me, sitting near my sundrenched hives,
it would always be a noble thing to contemplate, too noble ever to be
sullied by the cogitations of a man like me, exiled in his manhood.
[4660] And
I would never do my bees the wrong I had done my God, to whom I had been
taught to ascribe my angers, fears, desires, and even my body.
[4668] And to tell the truth I not only
knew who I was, but I had a sharper and clearer sense of my identity
than ever before, in spite of its deep lesions and the wounds with which
it was covered.
[4669] And from this point of view I was less fortunate than
my other acquaintances.
[4670] I am sorry if this last pharase is not so happy
as it might be.
[4671] It deserved, who knows, to be without ambiguity.
[4672] Then there are the clothes that cleave so close to the body and are
so to speak inseparable from it, in time of peace.
[4673] Yes, I have always
been very sensitive to clothing, though not in the least a dandy.
[4674] I had
not to complain of mine, tough and of good cut.
[4675] I was of course
inadequately covered, but whose fault was that?
[4676] And I had to part with
- Segments
Molloy © 2016 Samuel Beckett Digital Manuscript Project.
Editors: Magessa O'Reilly, Dirk Van Hulle, Pim Verhulst and Vincent Neyt