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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 642/821
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(
Through
silversilent
summer
air
the
dummy
of
Bloom
,
rolled
in
a
mummy
,
rolls
roteatingly
from
the
Lion
’
s
Head
cliff
into
the
purple
waiting
waters
.
)
THE
DUMMYMUMMY
:
Bbbbblllllblblblblobschbg
!
(
Far
out
in
the
bay
between
Bailey
and
Kish
lights
the
Erin
’
s
King
sails
,
sending
a
broadening
plume
of
coalsmoke
from
her
funnel
towards
the
land
.
)
COUNCILLOR
NANNETTI
:
(
Alone
on
deck
,
in
dark
alpaca
,
yellowkitefaced
,
his
hand
in
his
waistcoat
opening
,
declaims
.
)
When
my
country
takes
her
place
among
the
nations
of
the
earth
,
then
,
and
not
till
then
,
let
my
epitaph
be
written
.
I
have
.
.
.
BLOOM
:
Done
.
Prff
!
THE
NYMPH
:
(
Loftily
.
)
We
immortals
,
as
you
saw
today
,
have
not
such
a
place
and
no
hair
there
either
.
We
are
stonecold
and
pure
.
We
eat
electric
light
.
(
She
arches
her
body
in
lascivious
crispation
,
placing
her
forefinger
in
her
mouth
.
)
Spoke
to
me
.
Heard
from
behind
.
How
then
could
you
.
.
.
?
BLOOM
:
(
Pawing
the
heather
abjectly
.
)
O
,
I
have
been
a
perfect
pig
.
Enemas
too
I
have
administered
.
One
third
of
a
pint
of
quassia
to
which
add
a
tablespoonful
of
rocksalt
.
Up
the
fundament
.
With
Hamilton
Long
’
s
syringe
,
the
ladies
’
friend
.
THE
NYMPH
:
In
my
presence
.
The
powderpuff
.
(
She
blushes
and
makes
a
knee
.
)
And
the
rest
!
BLOOM
:
(
Dejected
.
)
Yes
.
Peccavi
!
I
have
paid
homage
on
that
living
altar
where
the
back
changes
name
.
(
With
sudden
fervour
.
)
For
why
should
the
dainty
scented
jewelled
hand
,
the
hand
that
rules
.
.
.
?
(
Figures
wind
serpenting
in
slow
woodland
pattern
around
the
treestems
,
cooeeing
.
)
