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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 601/821
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THE
BUCKLES
:
Love
me
.
Love
me
not
.
Love
me
.
ZOE
:
Silent
means
consent
.
(
With
little
parted
talons
she
captures
his
hand
,
her
forefinger
giving
to
his
palm
the
passtouch
of
secret
monitor
,
luring
him
to
doom
.
)
Hot
hands
cold
gizzard
.
(
He
hesitates
amid
scents
,
music
,
temptations
.
She
leads
him
towards
the
steps
,
drawing
him
by
the
odour
of
her
armpits
,
the
vice
of
her
painted
eyes
,
the
rustle
of
her
slip
in
whose
sinuous
folds
lurks
the
lion
reek
of
all
the
male
brutes
that
have
possessed
her
.
)
THE
MALE
BRUTES
:
(
Exhaling
sulphur
of
rut
and
dung
and
ramping
in
their
loosebox
,
faintly
roaring
,
their
drugged
heads
swaying
to
and
fro
.
)
Good
!
(
Zoe
and
Bloom
reach
the
doorway
where
two
sister
whores
are
seated
.
They
examine
him
curiously
from
under
their
pencilled
brows
and
smile
to
his
hasty
bow
.
He
trips
awkwardly
.
)
ZOE
:
(
Her
lucky
hand
instantly
saving
him
.
)
Hoopsa
!
Don
’
t
fall
upstairs
.
BLOOM
:
The
just
man
falls
seven
times
.
(
He
stands
aside
at
the
threshold
.
)
After
you
is
good
manners
.
ZOE
:
Ladies
first
,
gentlemen
after
.
(
She
crosses
the
threshold
.
He
hesitates
.
She
turns
and
,
holding
out
her
hands
,
draws
him
over
.
He
hops
.
On
the
antlered
rack
of
the
hall
hang
a
man
’
s
hat
and
waterproof
.
Bloom
uncovers
himself
but
,
seeing
them
,
frowns
,
then
smiles
,
preoccupied
.
A
door
on
the
return
landing
is
flung
open
.
A
man
in
purple
shirt
and
grey
trousers
,
brownsocked
,
passes
with
an
ape
’
s
gait
,
his
bald
head
and
goatee
beard
upheld
,
hugging
a
full
waterjugjar
,
his
twotailed
black
braces
dangling
at
heels
.
Averting
his
face
quickly
Bloom
bends
to
examine
on
the
halltable
the
spaniel
eyes
of
a
running
fox
:
then
,
his
lifted
head
sniffing
,
follows
Zoe
into
the
musicroom
.
A
shade
of
mauve
tissuepaper
dims
the
light
of
the
chandelier
.
Round
and
round
a
moth
flies
,
colliding
,
escaping
.
The
floor
is
covered
with
an
oilcloth
mosaic
of
jade
and
azure
and
cinnabar
rhomboids
.
Footmarks
are
stamped
over
it
in
all
senses
,
heel
to
heel
,
heel
to
hollow
,
toe
to
toe
,
feet
locked
,
a
morris
of
shuffling
feet
without
body
phantoms
,
all
in
a
scrimmage
higgledypiggledy
.
The
walls
are
tapestried
with
a
paper
of
yewfronds
and
clear
glades
.
In
the
grate
is
spread
a
screen
of
peacock
feathers
.
Lynch
squats
crosslegged
on
the
hearthrug
of
matted
hair
,
his
cap
back
to
the
front
.
With
a
wand
he
beats
time
slowly
.
Kitty
Ricketts
,
a
bony
pallid
whore
in
navy
costume
,
doeskin
gloves
rolled
back
from
a
coral
wristlet
,
a
chain
purse
in
her
hand
,
sits
perched
on
the
edge
of
the
table
swinging
her
leg
and
glancing
at
herself
in
the
gilt
mirror
over
the
mantelpiece
.
A
tag
of
her
corsetlace
hangs
slightly
below
her
jacket
.
Lynch
indicates
mockingly
the
couple
at
the
piano
.
)
