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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 411/821
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Steak
,
kidney
,
liver
,
mashed
,
at
meat
fit
for
princes
sat
princes
Bloom
and
Goulding
.
Princes
at
meat
they
raised
and
drank
,
Power
and
cider
.
Most
beautiful
tenor
air
ever
written
,
Richie
said
:
Sonnambula
.
He
heard
Joe
Maas
sing
that
one
night
.
Ah
,
what
M
’
Guckin
!
Yes
.
In
his
way
.
Choirboy
style
.
Maas
was
the
boy
.
Massboy
.
A
lyrical
tenor
if
you
like
.
Never
forget
it
.
Never
.
Tenderly
Bloom
over
liverless
bacon
saw
the
tightened
features
strain
.
Backache
he
.
Bright
’
s
bright
eye
.
Next
item
on
the
programme
.
Paying
the
piper
.
Pills
,
pounded
bread
,
worth
a
guinea
a
box
.
Stave
it
off
awhile
.
Sings
too
:
Down
among
the
dead
men
.
Appropriate
.
Kidney
pie
.
Sweets
to
the
.
Not
making
much
hand
of
it
.
Best
value
in
.
Characteristic
of
him
.
Power
.
Particular
about
his
drink
.
Flaw
in
the
glass
,
fresh
Vartry
water
.
Fecking
matches
from
counters
to
save
.
Then
squander
a
sovereign
in
dribs
and
drabs
.
And
when
he
’
s
wanted
not
a
farthing
.
Screwed
refusing
to
pay
his
fare
.
Curious
types
.
Never
would
Richie
forget
that
night
.
As
long
as
he
lived
:
never
.
In
the
gods
of
the
old
Royal
with
little
Peake
.
And
when
the
first
note
.
Speech
paused
on
Richie
’
s
lips
.
Coming
out
with
a
whopper
now
.
Rhapsodies
about
damn
all
.
Believes
his
own
lies
.
Does
really
.
Wonderful
liar
.
But
want
a
good
memory
.
—
Which
air
is
that
?
asked
Leopold
Bloom
.
—
All
is
lost
now
.
Richie
cocked
his
lips
apout
.
A
low
incipient
note
sweet
banshee
murmured
:
all
.
A
thrush
.
A
throstle
.
His
breath
,
birdsweet
,
good
teeth
he
’
s
proud
of
,
fluted
with
plaintive
woe
.
Is
lost
.
Rich
sound
.
Two
notes
in
one
there
.
Blackbird
I
heard
in
the
hawthorn
valley
.
Taking
my
motives
he
twined
and
turned
them
.
All
most
too
new
call
is
lost
in
all
.
Echo
.
How
sweet
the
answer
.
How
is
that
done
?
All
lost
now
.
Mournful
he
whistled
.
Fall
,
surrender
,
lost
.
