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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Улисс
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- Стр. 456/821
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H
.
Rumbold
,
Master
Barber
.
—
And
a
barbarous
bloody
barbarian
he
is
too
,
says
the
citizen
.
—
And
the
dirty
scrawl
of
the
wretch
,
says
Joe
.
Here
,
says
he
,
take
them
to
hell
out
of
my
sight
,
Alf
.
Hello
,
Bloom
,
says
he
,
what
will
you
have
?
So
they
started
arguing
about
the
point
,
Bloom
saying
he
wouldn
’
t
and
he
couldn
’
t
and
excuse
him
no
offence
and
all
to
that
and
then
he
said
well
he
’
d
just
take
a
cigar
.
Gob
,
he
’
s
a
prudent
member
and
no
mistake
.
—
Give
us
one
of
your
prime
stinkers
,
Terry
,
says
Joe
.
And
Alf
was
telling
us
there
was
one
chap
sent
in
a
mourning
card
with
a
black
border
round
it
.
—
They
’
re
all
barbers
,
says
he
,
from
the
black
country
that
would
hang
their
own
fathers
for
five
quid
down
and
travelling
expenses
.
And
he
was
telling
us
there
’
s
two
fellows
waiting
below
to
pull
his
heels
down
when
he
gets
the
drop
and
choke
him
properly
and
then
they
chop
up
the
rope
after
and
sell
the
bits
for
a
few
bob
a
skull
.
In
the
dark
land
they
bide
,
the
vengeful
knights
of
the
razor
.
Their
deadly
coil
they
grasp
:
yea
,
and
therein
they
lead
to
Erebus
whatsoever
wight
hath
done
a
deed
of
blood
for
I
will
on
nowise
suffer
it
even
so
saith
the
Lord
.
