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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Улисс
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- Стр. 487/821
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—
Robbed
,
says
he
.
Plundered
.
Insulted
.
Persecuted
.
Taking
what
belongs
to
us
by
right
.
At
this
very
moment
,
says
he
,
putting
up
his
fist
,
sold
by
auction
in
Morocco
like
slaves
or
cattle
.
—
Are
you
talking
about
the
new
Jerusalem
?
says
the
citizen
.
—
I
’
m
talking
about
injustice
,
says
Bloom
.
—
Right
,
says
John
Wyse
.
Stand
up
to
it
then
with
force
like
men
.
That
’
s
an
almanac
picture
for
you
.
Mark
for
a
softnosed
bullet
.
Old
lardyface
standing
up
to
the
business
end
of
a
gun
.
Gob
,
he
’
d
adorn
a
sweepingbrush
,
so
he
would
,
if
he
only
had
a
nurse
’
s
apron
on
him
.
And
then
he
collapses
all
of
a
sudden
,
twisting
around
all
the
opposite
,
as
limp
as
a
wet
rag
.
—
But
it
’
s
no
use
,
says
he
.
Force
,
hatred
,
history
,
all
that
.
That
’
s
not
life
for
men
and
women
,
insult
and
hatred
.
And
everybody
knows
that
it
’
s
the
very
opposite
of
that
that
is
really
life
.
—
What
?
says
Alf
.
—
Love
,
says
Bloom
.
I
mean
the
opposite
of
hatred
.
I
must
go
now
,
says
he
to
John
Wyse
.
Just
round
to
the
court
a
moment
to
see
if
Martin
is
there
.
If
he
comes
just
say
I
’
ll
be
back
in
a
second
.
Just
a
moment
.
Who
’
s
hindering
you
?
And
off
he
pops
like
greased
lightning
.
—
A
new
apostle
to
the
gentiles
,
says
the
citizen
.
Universal
love
.
