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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 437/821
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Bloom
went
by
Barry
’
s
.
Wish
I
could
.
Wait
.
That
wonderworker
if
I
had
.
Twentyfour
solicitors
in
that
one
house
.
Counted
them
.
Litigation
.
Love
one
another
.
Piles
of
parchment
.
Messrs
Pick
and
Pocket
have
power
of
attorney
.
Goulding
,
Collis
,
Ward
.
But
for
example
the
chap
that
wallops
the
big
drum
.
His
vocation
:
Mickey
Rooney
’
s
band
.
Wonder
how
it
first
struck
him
.
Sitting
at
home
after
pig
’
s
cheek
and
cabbage
nursing
it
in
the
armchair
.
Rehearsing
his
band
part
.
Pom
.
Pompedy
.
Jolly
for
the
wife
.
Asses
’
skins
.
Welt
them
through
life
,
then
wallop
after
death
.
Pom
.
Wallop
.
Seems
to
be
what
you
call
yashmak
or
I
mean
kismet
.
Fate
.
Tap
.
Tap
.
A
stripling
,
blind
,
with
a
tapping
cane
came
taptaptapping
by
Daly
’
s
window
where
a
mermaid
hair
all
streaming
(
but
he
couldn
’
t
see
)
blew
whiffs
of
a
mermaid
(
blind
couldn
’
t
)
,
mermaid
,
coolest
whiff
of
all
.
Instruments
.
A
blade
of
grass
,
shell
of
her
hands
,
then
blow
.
Even
comb
and
tissuepaper
you
can
knock
a
tune
out
of
.
Molly
in
her
shift
in
Lombard
street
west
,
hair
down
.
I
suppose
each
kind
of
trade
made
its
own
,
don
’
t
you
see
?
Hunter
with
a
horn
.
Haw
.
Have
you
the
?
Cloche
.
Sonnez
la
.
Shepherd
his
pipe
.
Pwee
little
wee
.
Policeman
a
whistle
.
Locks
and
keys
!
Sweep
!
Four
o
’
clock
’
s
all
’
s
well
!
Sleep
!
All
is
lost
now
.
Drum
?
Pompedy
.
Wait
.
I
know
.
Towncrier
,
bumbailiff
.
Long
John
.
Waken
the
dead
.
Pom
.
Dignam
.
Poor
little
nominedomine
.
Pom
.
It
is
music
.
I
mean
of
course
it
’
s
all
pom
pom
pom
very
much
what
they
call
da
capo
.
Still
you
can
hear
.
As
we
march
,
we
march
along
,
march
along
.
Pom
.
I
must
really
.
Fff
.
Now
if
I
did
that
at
a
banquet
.
Just
a
question
of
custom
shah
of
Persia
.
Breathe
a
prayer
,
drop
a
tear
.
All
the
same
he
must
have
been
a
bit
of
a
natural
not
to
see
it
was
a
yeoman
cap
.
Muffled
up
.
Wonder
who
was
that
chap
at
the
grave
in
the
brown
macin
.
O
,
the
whore
of
the
lane
!
A
frowsy
whore
with
black
straw
sailor
hat
askew
came
glazily
in
the
day
along
the
quay
towards
Mr
Bloom
.
When
first
he
saw
that
form
endearing
?
Yes
,
it
is
.
I
feel
so
lonely
.
Wet
night
in
the
lane
.
Horn
.
Who
had
the
?
Heehaw
shesaw
.
Off
her
beat
here
.
What
is
she
?
Hope
she
.
Psst
!
Any
chance
of
your
wash
.
Knew
Molly
.
Had
me
decked
.
Stout
lady
does
be
with
you
in
the
brown
costume
.
Put
you
off
your
stroke
,
that
.
Appointment
we
made
knowing
we
’
d
never
,
well
hardly
ever
.
Too
dear
too
near
to
home
sweet
home
.
Sees
me
,
does
she
?
Looks
a
fright
in
the
day
.
Face
like
dip
.
Damn
her
.
O
,
well
,
she
has
to
live
like
the
rest
.
Look
in
here
.
In
Lionel
Marks
’
s
antique
saleshop
window
haughty
Henry
Lionel
Leopold
dear
Henry
Flower
earnestly
Mr
Leopold
Bloom
envisaged
battered
candlesticks
melodeon
oozing
maggoty
blowbags
.
Bargain
:
six
bob
.
Might
learn
to
play
.
Cheap
.
Let
her
pass
.
Course
everything
is
dear
if
you
don
’
t
want
it
.
That
’
s
what
good
salesman
is
.
Make
you
buy
what
he
wants
to
sell
.
Chap
sold
me
the
Swedish
razor
he
shaved
me
with
Wanted
to
charge
me
for
the
edge
he
gave
it
.
She
’
s
passing
now
.
Six
bob
.
Must
be
the
cider
or
perhaps
the
burgund
.
