Ulysses Part 128

THE BOOTS: _(Jogging, mocks them with thumb and wriggling wormfingers)_ Haw haw have you the horn?

_(Bronze by gold they whisper.)_

ZOE: _(To Florry)_ Whisper.

_(They whisper again)_

_(Over the well of the car Blazes Boylan leans, his boater straw set sideways, a red flower in his mouth. Lenehan in yachtsman's cap and white shoes officiously detaches a long hair from Blazes Boylan's coat shoulder.)_

LENEHAN: Ho! What do I here behold? Were you brus.h.i.+ng the cobwebs off a few quims?

BOYLAN: _(Seated, smiles)_ Plucking a turkey.

LENEHAN: A good night's work.

BOYLAN: _(Holding up four thick bluntungulated fingers, winks)_ Blazes Kate! Up to sample or your money back. _(He holds out a forefinger)_ Smell that.

LENEHAN: _(Smells gleefully)_ Ah! Lobster and mayonnaise. Ah!

ZOE AND FLORRY: _(Laugh together)_ Ha ha ha ha.

BOYLAN: _(Jumps surely from the car and calls loudly for all to hear)_ h.e.l.lo, Bloom! Mrs Bloom dressed yet?

BLOOM: _(In flunkey's prune plush coat and kneebreeches, buff stockings and powdered wig)_ I'm afraid not, sir. The last articles...

BOYLAN: _(Tosses him sixpence)_ Here, to buy yourself a gin and splash.

_(He hangs his hat smartly on a peg of Bloom's antlered head)_ Show me in. I have a little private business with your wife, you understand?

BLOOM: Thank you, sir. Yes, sir. Madam Tweedy is in her bath, sir.

MARION: He ought to feel himself highly honoured. _(She plops splas.h.i.+ng out of the water)_ Raoul darling, come and dry me. I'm in my pelt. Only my new hat and a carriage sponge.

BOYLAN: _(A merry twinkle in his eye)_ Topping!

BELLA: What? What is it?

_(Zoe whispers to her.)_

MARION: Let him look, the pishogue! Pimp! And scourge himself! I'll write to a powerful prost.i.tute or Bartholomona, the bearded woman, to raise weals out on him an inch thick and make him bring me back a signed and stamped receipt.

BOYLAN: (clasps himself) Here, I can't hold this little lot much longer.

(he strides off on stiff cavalry legs)

BELLA: _(Laughing)_ Ho ho ho ho.

BOYLAN: _(To Bloom, over his shoulder)_ You can apply your eye to the keyhole and play with yourself while I just go through her a few times.

BLOOM: Thank you, sir. I will, sir. May I bring two men chums to witness the deed and take a snapshot? _(He holds out an ointment jar)_ Vaseline, sir? Orangeflower...? Lukewarm water...?

KITTY: _(From the sofa)_ Tell us, Florry. Tell us. What.

_(Florry whispers to her. Whispering lovewords murmur, liplapping loudly, poppysmic plopslop.)_

MINA KENNEDY: _(Her eyes upturned)_ O, it must be like the scent of geraniums and lovely peaches! O, he simply idolises every bit of her!

Stuck together! Covered with kisses!

LYDIA DOUCE: _(Her mouth opening)_ Yumyum. O, he's carrying her round the room doing it! Ride a c.o.c.khorse. You could hear them in Paris and New York. Like mouthfuls of strawberries and cream.

KITTY: _(Laughing)_ Hee hee hee.

BOYLAN'S VOICE: _(Sweetly, hoa.r.s.ely, in the pit of his stomach)_ Ah!

Gooblazqruk brukarchkrasht!

MARION'S VOICE: _(Hoa.r.s.ely, sweetly, rising to her throat)_ O!

Weeshwashtkissinapooisthnapoohuck?

BLOOM: _(His eyes wildly dilated, clasps himself)_ Show! Hide! Show!

Plough her! More! Shoot!

BELLA, ZOE, FLORRY, KITTY: Ho ho! Ha ha! Hee hee!

LYNCH: _(Points)_ The mirror up to nature. _(He laughs)_ Hu hu hu hu hu!

_(Stephen and Bloom gaze in the mirror. The face of William Shakespeare, beardless, appears there, rigid in facial paralysis, crowned by the reflection of the reindeer antlered hatrack in the hall.)_

SHAKESPEARE: _(In dignified ventriloquy)_ 'Tis the loud laugh bespeaks the vacant mind. _(To Bloom)_ Thou thoughtest as how thou wastest invisible. Gaze. _(He crows with a black capon's laugh)_ Iagogo! How my Oldfellow chokit his Thursdaymornun. Iagogogo!

BLOOM: _(Smiles yellowly at the three wh.o.r.es)_ When will I hear the joke?

ZOE: Before you're twice married and once a widower.

BLOOM: Lapses are condoned. Even the great Napoleon when measurements were taken next the skin after his death...

_(Mrs Dignam, widow woman, her snubnose and cheeks flushed with deathtalk, tears and Tunney's tawny sherry, hurries by in her weeds, her bonnet awry, rouging and powdering her cheeks, lips and nose, a pen chivvying her brood of cygnets. Beneath her skirt appear her late husband's everyday trousers and turnedup boots, large eights. She holds a Scottish widows' insurance policy and a large marquee umbrella under which her brood run with her, Patsy hopping on one shod foot, his collar loose, a hank of porksteaks dangling, freddy whimpering, Susy with a crying cod's mouth, Alice struggling with the baby. She cuffs them on, her streamers flaunting aloft.)_

FREDDY: Ah, ma, you're dragging me along!

SUSY: Mamma, the beeftea is fizzing over!

SHAKESPEARE: _(With paralytic rage)_ Weda seca whokilla farst.

_(The face of Martin Cunningham, bearded, refeatures Shakespeare's beardless face. The marquee umbrella sways drunkenly, the children run aside. Under the umbrella appears Mrs Cunningham in Merry Widow hat and kimono gown. She glides sidling and bowing, twirling j.a.panesily.)_

MRS CUNNINGHAM: _(Sings)_

And they call me the jewel of Asia!

MARTIN CUNNINGHAM: _(Gazes on her, impa.s.sive)_ Immense! Most b.l.o.o.d.y awful demirep!