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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 599/821
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Reprover
of
the
Citizen
,
pray
for
us
Friend
of
all
Frillies
,
pray
for
us
Midwife
Most
Merciful
,
pray
for
us
Potato
Preservative
against
Plague
and
Pestilence
,
pray
for
us
.
(
A
choir
of
six
hundred
voices
,
conducted
by
Vincent
O
’
Brien
,
sings
the
chorus
from
Handel
’
s
Messiah
Alleluia
for
the
Lord
God
Omnipotent
reigneth
,
accompanied
on
the
organ
by
Joseph
Glynn
.
Bloom
becomes
mute
,
shrunken
,
carbonised
.
)
ZOE
:
Talk
away
till
you
’
re
black
in
the
face
.
BLOOM
:
(
In
caubeen
with
clay
pipe
stuck
in
the
band
,
dusty
brogues
,
an
emigrant
’
s
red
handkerchief
bundle
in
his
hand
,
leading
a
black
bogoak
pig
by
a
sugaun
,
with
a
smile
in
his
eye
.
)
Let
me
be
going
now
,
woman
of
the
house
,
for
by
all
the
goats
in
Connemara
I
’
m
after
having
the
father
and
mother
of
a
bating
.
(
With
a
tear
in
his
eye
.
)
All
insanity
.
Patriotism
,
sorrow
for
the
dead
,
music
,
future
of
the
race
.
To
be
or
not
to
be
.
Life
’
s
dream
is
o
’
er
.
End
it
peacefully
.
They
can
live
on
.
(
He
gazes
far
away
mournfully
.
)
I
am
ruined
.
A
few
pastilles
of
aconite
.
The
blinds
drawn
.
A
letter
.
Then
lie
back
to
rest
.
(
He
breathes
softly
.
)
No
more
.
I
have
lived
.
Fare
.
Farewell
.
ZOE
:
(
Stiffly
,
her
finger
in
her
neckfillet
.
)
Honest
?
Till
the
next
time
.
(
She
sneers
.
)
Suppose
you
got
up
the
wrong
side
of
the
bed
or
came
too
quick
with
your
best
girl
.
O
,
I
can
read
your
thoughts
!
BLOOM
:
(
Bitterly
.
)
Man
and
woman
,
love
,
what
is
it
?
A
cork
and
bottle
.
I
’
m
sick
of
it
.
Let
everything
rip
.
